The Gospel, according to Gilderoy Lockhart
by Merlyn
Summary: To assist his already overinflated ego Lockhart suggests that the students put together their own paper – ‘The Hogwarts Gazette’. Unfortunately, Severus Snape ends up on the wrong end of Hermione Granger’s pen. Contains slash.
1. The Appointment

**Title:** The Hogwarts Gazette

**Chapter: **One: The Appointment  
**Rating:** M

**Synopsis:** Prequel to 'The Meaning of Life at Hogwarts (or The Hogwarts School Band)': This takes place during Harry's second year at Hogwarts, during the time of Gilderoy Lockhart. To assist his already over-inflated ego Lockhart suggests that the students put together their own paper – 'The Hogwarts Gazette'. Unfortunately, Severus Snape ends up on the wrong end of Hermione Granger's pen.

**Original Character:** For the moment, just Alistor Daker.

**Legal:** All the characters (besides those mentioned in the above) are the creation of the wonderful JK Rowling, this story has been written because I was bored and had nothing more exciting to do. This isn't for profit.

The Appointment 

This was becoming a very usual event for Albus Dumbledore, not that there were ever many applicants (at least that made it to the interviews), he'd already had his debate with Severus Snape over whether or not he was a suitable candidate. Eventually winning him over with the point that if he, Severus Snape, was appointed as Defence against the Dark Arts teacher then he, Albus Dumbledore, would struggle to find a potions teachers of equal skill. Sadly this did mean that he ended having to sit through endless presentations from terrible candidates, or at least it used to.

"I don't see why we all have to be here to listen to the whingebag." Snape commented as he sat down at the long table in the headmasters adjoining study.

"Shut up, Severus." Minerva McGonagall replied hitting him slightly with her notepad. "You're giving the impression that you don't want to be here."

"I'd rather not be, I've got plenty of things I could be doing."

"Such as?" Filius Flitwick asked.

"Preparing for the forthcoming year."

"Really." McGonagall replied with a raised eyebrow.

Snape looked at them; "I don't spend every second of my free time engaged in sexual relations."

"Sexual relations? Not heard it called that in a long time." Professor Sprout said taking her seat at the table. "In my day we just referred to it as shagging." There was laughter.

"Ha ha." He folded his arms, "since you're all in such a jovial mood, why don't you ask Professor Flitwick to tell you about his young gentleman."

"Oh, so you have a young gentleman do you, Filus?" McGonagall giggled.

"I do not!" Flitwick replied hotly.

However before more information could be extracted from the poor professor (who was doing a fairly good impression of a beetroot) Albus Dumbledore arrived.

"Ah, thank you for giving up your spare time. I've asked you to listen to Mr Lockhart's presentation as I would like your opinions before I make my final decision." He said whilst attempting to set up the presentation chart

"You don't normally require our opinions in making up your mind." McGonagall commented.

"No, I don't _normally_ but Mr Lockhart is a bit of a unusual case."

"How so?"

"The celebrity nature."

"Professor, have you actually _read_ any of his books?" Snape asked.

"Yes, of course." Dumbledore was struggling with the chart, "I felt obliged to upon his application."

"And?"

"He has lead a remarkable life, and would be an interesting addition to the staff." He gave up with the chart and pointed his wand at it.

"Then why do you need our opinions?" Professor Spout asked.

"You'll soon see." There was a sharp knock at the door, "ah, that'll be Mr Lockhart now. Come in! Come in!"

Gilderoy Lockhart bounced into the room, literally. He was wearing a bright pink suit, complete with yellow spotted bow tie and ruffled shirt; Professor Sprout had to bite her lip to prevent a laughing fit.

"Good morning!" He gleamed sickeningly.

"Ah Gilderoy, I'd like you to meet my heads of staff." Dumbledore indicated to the table of gathered staff. "This is Minerva McGonagall, my right hand as it were."

"Charmed, most charmed." Lockhart said taking McGonagall's hand and kissing it.

"Maureen Sprout, Head of Hufflepuff and Herbology teacher." Lockhart repeated his kiss, "Filius Flitwick, Head of Ravenclaw and Charms teacher." He shook hands thoroughly with the little man, "and finally this is Severus Snape Head of Slytherin and our Potions teacher."

Lockhart held out his hand "ah, Professor Snape I believe I've read one of your articles."

"Indeed," Snape replied, refusing to unfold his arms and take the outstretched hand.

"I'm very much looking forward to discussing experimental memory potions with you."

"Of course."

Sensing perhaps that this wasn't the best time to discuss experimental memory potions with the young Potions teacher, Lockhart turned back to the group. "Shall we get on? I'm sure you've all got better things to do than listen to my little presentation." McGonagall had to stand on Snape's foot before he could say anything.

Three hours later everyone was fighting off the urge to yawn openly (including Albus Dumbledore) there was no denying that Gilderoy Lockhart was indeed impressive, but an impressive what was open to discussion. Professor's McGonagall and Snape were engaged in a pretty intense game of hangman.

"Wish he'd hurry up, I'm dying for a pee." He whispered to McGonagall.

"I'm sure he can't talk for much longer." She replied, hanging the little stickman (which looked remarkably like Gilderoy Lockhart). "You loose."

"And that ladies and gentleman is why I would make a very good addition to your teaching staff, what with my advanced knowledge in various subjects including, of course, my own skills in the Defence against the Dark Arts. Thank you." He took an extravagant bow.

Albus Dumbledore led a very muted applause. "Very interesting, Mr Lockhart. We will be discussing your application and will be in touch with you shortly. Mr Filch will show you out."

Lockhart left after a flurry of handshakes and smiles. Dumbledore turned to his assembled staff, with an enquiring look in his eye. "Well?"

"I have to go to the bathroom." Snape said standing.

"Wait a moment, Severus, I'd like to ask you your opinion."

"Unless you want a rather large puddle on the floor…"

Dumbledore waved a hand in the direction of the door, "Go, go." Snape disappeared out of the room. "What do you think?"

"Very…interesting." McGonagall finally found the words she looking for. "He's not someone I'd normally see as a teacher."

"His unorthodox style might actually help, I'd imagine he'd be quite indulgent with students." Flitwick commented. "Whether or not his indulgence will be of any use is another question, but yes I think he would be a very interesting choice."

"I can see him and Severus clashing." Sprout added.

"Yes, but Severus is likely to clash with a potato." Snape picked this particular moment to return. "No offence."

"About what?" He asked resuming his seat.

"Nothing."

"My mind is made up on this, I would like to employ Gilderoy Lockhart however I did anticipate that many of you would have strong opinions on the subject, which I would prefer to hear sooner rather than later." Dumbledore leaned forward.

"I believe he would be a great source of irritation, and the fact that his books are a pretentious work of fiction begs the question of _how _you can possibly think that he is qualified to teach." Snape said.

"Well, the part about his books being a work of fiction is debatable." McGonagall began, "and regarding his ability to teach, may I remind you Severus that we all had doubts over your abilities when you were first appointed."

"That's hardly the same, I never made any false claims about my abilities and I would like to believe that I am not as far up my own arse as that man is. Also I think Lockhart is so far in the closet he's in Narnia!"

"Narnia?"

Snape waved his hand slightly, "Muggle book reference."

"You can't possibly be suggesting that he's gay! Gilderoy Lockhart has armies of female fans, and apparently he's quite the man about town." Sprout snorted. "And you surely can't be homophobic, considering that you happen to be queer."

"I can't imagine a straight man would turn up for an interview in a bright pink suit, complete with ruffled shirt."

"I've never see you anything more colourful than dark green." Dumbledore said with a slight smile. "You can have this debate with Mr Lockhart, I should say _Professor _Lockhart when he joins you for the pre-term preparations in August. Now I'm sure you've all got much more interesting things to do, I thank for you allowing an old man his indulgence." He left the room, after first blasting the chart.

"So, Severus what did you think of him?" McGonagall asked with a mischievous look in her eye.

"You already know what I think." He replied.

"Of his body."

"Of his body?" He turned slightly pink, "pretty unremarkable."

"He had a very nice smile." Sprout said with a grin.

"He's an arrogant egotistical little arsehole!"

"And those eyes." McGonagall added.

"Ladies, please you cannot be seriously suggesting that you found…that! attractive!"

"Rumour is that he's hung like a donkey."

"I don't want to know." Snape said standing.

"Oh come on, you must have an opinion."

"Alright, he has quite a cute backside, but that's all I'm allowing him!"


	2. Team Games

**Title:** The Gospel, according to Gilderoy Lockhart. Or, The Hogwarts Gazette

**Chapter: **Two: Team Games  
**Rating:** M

**Synopsis:** Prequel to 'The Meaning of Life at Hogwarts (or The Hogwarts School Band)': This takes place during Harry's second year at Hogwarts, during the time of Gilderoy Lockhart. To assist his already over-inflated ego Lockhart suggests that the students put together their own paper – 'The Hogwarts Gazette'. Unfortunately, Severus Snape ends up on the wrong end of Hermione Granger's pen.  
**Original Character(s):** Alistor Daker and a sadistic coffee-pot

**Legal:** All the characters (besides those mentioned in the above) are the creation of the wonderful JK Rowling, this story has been written because I was bored and had nothing more exciting to do. This isn't for profit.

**Authors Note:** I'm writing this chapter with an extra spring in my step. I've been informed by the DSM at work that We Will Rock You has been given it's nine months closing order and The Lord of the Rings: The Musical will be the new musical entering the Dominion Theatre. Good. Now someone PLEASE close Blood Brothers? (I work there, sadly). Oh, also…congratulations to The X Factor for winning Best Comedy; see Simon _that's _how we see you. The word of the day is floccinaucinihilipification and the musical of the week is Jerry Springer: The Opera.

Team Games 

Professor Annie Sinistra wanted to go back to bed. She had spent much the night travelling to Hogwarts for the staff meeting. She wondered what it was all about. Albus Dumbledore didn't usually have a full meeting two weeks before term. Privately she was rather fed up and considering leaving Hogwarts. This summer she had talked with her husband about the possibility of children. They had both decided that due to their 'careers' it wouldn't be a good move at this time.

"Good morning." Professor Sprout said entering the room and heading straight for the coffee-pot. She paused before pouring a cup. The pot hadn't been the same since that _incident_ last year and seemed to be suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder…you weren't always guaranteed that it _was_ coffee in the pot.

"I wouldn't," Sinistra called, "tastes like something's been swimming."

"We should really replace this thing."

"Last time we tried Filius spent a week in the hospital wing."

"Oh dear." She put the pot down carefully. "How was your summer?"

"Not too bad. My niece visited and that got me and Charlie chatting about having kids of our own."

"So the sound of pattering feet?"

"No. Our 'careers' would get in the way."

"Ah. _That _argument."

"I had a hard enough time getting him into bed when we first started seeing each other."

"If this is women's talk I'll come back later." Severus Snape said slinking into the room behind them.

Professor Sinistra tilted her head back to look at him: "how long was it before you and Alastor slept together?"

Snape picked up the coffee-pot and sniffed it, "about eighteen months." He grimaced and put the pot down.

"Took me almost a year to get Charlie to sleep with me." Professor Sprout gave a sympathetic smile.

"Conducting a survey?" McGonagall asked sitting down next to her.

"Of sorts."

She thought for a moment, "me and Archie didn't sleep together until we were married. Been engaged two years."

"I think that's what Charlie wanted. When I married Mark we didn't sleep together until the honeymoon…I think that's where it all went wrong. I didn't want to make the same mistake twice."

"At least you know he wasn't just going out with you for your body." Madam Hooch settled herself into an armchair. There was a crash and they looked round. Snape was searching through the various cupboards around the sink.

"What _are _you looking for?"

"There was a jar of instant coffee…"

"Can I have your attention please?" Albus Dumbledore called over the chatter. No one had seen him enter. He often did that, appearing when they least expected it. They silenced almost immediately. "Now, as many of you are aware we have a new teacher. May I introduce Gilderoy Lockhart?"

There was somewhat muted applause and a scattering of muttering. They had all heard the story of his interview, many people (mostly the females) where non-the less, impressed. Gilderoy Lockhart beamed around the room (today wearing bright yellow).

"Greetings!" He called proudly. "I hope that we can all enjoy working together and I look forward to getting to know you all. Just treat me like an ordinary teacher, ignore that I am somewhat well-known on the publishing circuit." No one said anything, a few glances where, however, exchanged.

"Gilderoy has a few suggestions about how we can strengthen our team. I would like to give some of these suggestions a go." Dumbledore added.

"What sort of 'suggestions'?" McGonagall asked suspiciously.

"Team building games and exercises." There was a collective groan.

"No offence, headmaster, but I am rather busy getting things ready for the new term."

"Severus, I would like you to participate. That goes for everyone." Another groan. "It won't take too much of your time and it would be an interesting experiment."

They were getting used to Dumbledore's wild ideas for 'team bonding' that he seemed to be getting from the many Muggle magazines that he read. They were all secretly wishing they knew who had given him a subscription to a management magazine in the Secret Santa (except obviously the person who had given him the subscription who was wishing they hadn't).

"I think it sounds like rather good fun." Madam Hooch said.

"You just enjoy inflicting pain." Professor Flitwick squeaked. "Professor, some of us…don't enjoy physical activities."

"It's a good time to start, New Year's resolutions."

"Well, mine was get more physical…but not in the way you're suggesting." Sprout muttered.

There was a further crash and everyone turned to Snape, who they discovered was wrestling with the coffee-pot. Albus Dumbledore groaned inwardly, it was going to be another one of _those _years.

Several hours later the staff filtered into the Great Hall, which they discovered had been set up as a sort of obstacle course. The only people who seemed excited by the prospect of racing round a demanding obstacle course at half past two in the afternoon where Madam Hooch (who enjoyed any team game), Gilderoy Lockhart (it had been his suggestion _and _a chance to show off) and Albus Dumbledore. To Severus Snape's irritation Madam Pomfrey had pronounced him fit enough to take part after the coffee-pot incident and so he, like everyone else was forced to the Great Hall.

"Ah, excellent." Gilderoy beamed. He was now wearing a ridiculous pair of shorts that left very little to the imagination, and a t-shirt bearing his initials (in bright pink). "Now, I want you all to split into two teams which will be headed by myself and Professor Dumbledore." They reluctantly split.

"I'm starting to agree with you." Professor Sprout whispered to Snape as they crossed the hall to Dumbledore.

"About what?"

"That Lockhart is a puff."

"Ah."

"Oh dear. It seems that we have uneven teams." Specifically, Lockhart had two. "Perhaps everyone under forty should join me." Several people shuffled reluctantly over; "Oh I will enjoy being the youngest."

"He surely can't be younger than Severus." Flitwick muttered under his breath to McGonagall.

"He can't be."

"Now." Lockhart said from his stand, " the aim of the exercise to help each other around the obstacle course and the team that completes it in the quickest time will be the winners. Each team member _must _complete at least one obstacle."

"Perhaps you should demonstrate." Snape said with an evil grin.

"Demonstrate?" He seemed suddenly nervous.

"Yes, give us an example of how it is done."

"Well…I…I hardly…I hardly don't think that's fair."

"How is it unfair?" Sinistra asked.

"The…the idea is that…they are obstacles…if I demonstrate overcoming…overcoming the obstacles it would hardly be a challenge." They had to hand it to him, he could defiantly think on his feet.

Several exhausting hours later, everyone was battered bruised and humiliated. They all however took some comfort in Gilderoy Lockhart's disastrous attempt at climbing the wall; his rather tight shorts had split, he'd messed up his hair and shock horror, broken a nail.

"I've got bruises in places I didn't know could get bruised." Flitwick said walking gingerly across the staff room.

"Where did Dumbledore get the idea to hire that…" Snape couldn't finish, he was too exhausted to be callous. They all looked at McGonagall.

"No point looking at me, this isn't my fault." She transformed herself into a cat and jumped up onto Snape's knee.

He tickled her absently behind the ears. "I'm not moving."

Tune in next time for the **Start of Term**!


	3. The Start of Term

**Title:** The Gospel, according to Gilderoy Lockhart. Or, The Hogwarts Gazette  
**Chapter: **Three: The Start of Term  
**Rating:** M  
**Synopsis:** Prequel to 'The Meaning of Life at Hogwarts (or The Hogwarts School Band)': This takes place during Harry's second year at Hogwarts, during the time of Gilderoy Lockhart. To assist his already over-inflated ego Lockhart suggests that the students put together their own paper – 'The Hogwarts Gazette'. Unfortunately, Severus Snape ends up on the wrong end of Hermione Granger's pen.  
**Original Character(s):** Alistor Daker, a sadistic coffee-pot and a paper loving caterpillar  
**Legal:** All the characters (besides those mentioned in the above) are the creation of the wonderful JK Rowling, this story has been written because I was bored and had nothing more exciting to do. This isn't for profit.  
**Authors Note:** I've just entered a competition to write a short story (250 words max.) using as many _ff_ words as possible. I'm beginning to wish when I moved out I made sure I brought my Harry Potter books with me…curse having a younger brother! The word of the day is zucchetto and the album of the week is The Best Wombles Album…So Far

The Start of Term

The coffee pot gurgled menacingly. It was Monday morning. No one quite understood how the pot _knew _that it was Monday morning, but since magic was a bugger no one really asked. The pot had been at Hogwarts since the late 1950s and had no desire to leave any time soon, anyone who defied this wish was prone to developing a nervous twitch when passing coffee of any description. Thankfully, the coffee pot didn't know that this was a very _special _Monday; it was the day of the Start of Term Feast.

Professor Snape lit a cigarette and stared out of the staff room window. He hated Monday's, and generally not for the reason the coffee pot did. "Filthy habit." A nearby painting muttered.

"Piss off." Snape replied. Another thing he hated was judgemental paintings (and goldfish, but that's another story).

"Talking to yourself, eh?" A sickeningly cheery voice said behind him. Snape groaned; perhaps the something he hated more than Monday's, goldfish and judgemental paintings had just bounced into the room. "It's rather exciting this teaching stuff, I've spent all night getting my classroom ready for my first lot of students tomorrow morning. Oh, I can't wait to start brightening up their days. I can see it now, at the end of the day they see my lesson is next on the time table and instantly, _boom_ life is good again."

Snape stared at Lockhart and decided not to warn him about the coffee pot. He turned back to the window, he took another drag on his cigarette and grinned as he heard Lockhart cry out in surprise (or perhaps pain).

"'orning." Professor Flitwick yawned. "How's the coffee?"

"Sadistic."

"Really? Oh." He looked down, "why is Gilderoy lying on the floor?"

"He introduced himself to the coffee." He replied, flicking the butt of his cigarette out of the window.

"I see." Flitwick stepped over the figure of Lockhart. "Would you care for a cup of tea?"

"I'd love one."

"What should we do about…" He gave Lockhart a tap with his foot.

"Oh, he'll be fine."

"Looking forward to the new term?"

"Oh yes." Snape replied. "So, this young gentleman of yours…"

Flitwick turned red, "not in front of the coffee!"

Several more people had entered the room during the exchange, each one stepping over the unconscious figure of Lockhart without as much saying a word. Coffee related injuries were a common occurrence.

Ten or so minutes later Lockhart had recovered and was now recounting the story of how he had saved Severus Snape's life from a rabid coffee pot that was clearly intent on world domination and the slavery of man kind. Which wasn't half far from the truth (at least in regards to the coffee pot's life goals).

Professor Sprout was currently talking softly to a potted plant that emitted a foul smell whenever anyone approached her. No one was really paying much attention to the Herbology professor; they were used to her various plants that ended up as guests in the staff room.

"Severus, did you read in the latest issue of Herbology Monthly about the new research that was being done regarding the use of Mandrakes in sleeping potions?"

"Yes, although personally I would never used Mandrakes as a key ingredient in anything to do with sleeping. They are far too unstable."

"I myself find the Mandrake a most fascinating plant." Lockhart interjected, "for example during one of my past adventures I have been able to make ample use of their restorative properties."

"Do you relate every discussion to things you have done in the past?" Snape muttered irritably. He went back to his crossword only to find a small caterpillar enjoying the down clues. "Hey!" The caterpillar eyed him suspiciously.

* * *

Professor Albus Dumbledore potted around his office. He had one of those strange feelings that this year was going to be almost as eventful as the year before. Appointing Gilderoy Lockhart was starting to seem like not the best decision he could have made. Perhaps he should start considering Severus for the position. He absently fiddled with one of the various shiny objects that littered his office. His pot plant whined. It wanted watering; he sighed wishing that he had never allowed Filius to try out his Pot-Plant-Watering-Alert Charm on his plant.

* * *

"Have you seen this?" Professor McGonagall handed the Daily Prophet over to Professor Sinistra.

"'Flying Car Spotted', oh dear. Someone's going to be in trouble with the Ministry when they catch up to them!" She handed it back, and went back to her textbook…discovering a caterpillar eating the corner. "What the---!" She picked it up; it glared at her.

* * *

The driver of the Hogwarts Express checked his location, approximately three hours from Hogwarts. He sighed and dispatched an owl.

* * *

Lockhart pranced around his office adjusting the various portraits. Oh he was so looking forward to this year; he had always felt that there was something more to him than his writing and adventures. The urge to teach had called to him and here he now was, organising his office, planning lessons. Oh the enjoyment!

* * *

The Start of Term Feast was the highlight of the year for most people. It was when the best food was served and the Sorting took place. It gave everyone a chance to catch up with people they hadn't seen all summer. Due to his 'popularity' no one had failed to notice that Harry Potter had not been on the train this year; this only fuelled rumours that something was going on.

"Where's Ron?" Lee Jordan asked Fred (or possibly George).

"No idea, mate. We were all at the station, and then he wasn't on the train." Fred replied. "Mum's going to go mad when she finds out that he didn't show up."

"What about Harry?"

"Same. No idea."

Professor McGonagall took the sorting hat off the stage into the antechamber where the hat would rest before being took back to Dumbledore's office. She was concerned about Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, it was very unusual for students not to turn up at the school, and rumour had it that they weren't on the school train. She had sent an owl to the stationmaster. Still, the show must go on. She returned to the staff table and resumed her seat between Professors Dumbledore and Snape (who seemed somewhat uncomfortable).

Gilderoy Lockhart was being his usual flamboyant self, sat between Madame Hooch and Professor Sinistra. From the expression on Sinistra's face it looked like Lockhart was recounting his defeat of the Wagga-Wagga werewolf for the seven thousandth time that evening. She caught McGonagall's eye and mouthed 'help me' at her. All she could do was smile sympathetically at her. Madame Hooch seemed somewhat enraptured by Lockhart's tale and was laughing loudly at his terrible jokes.

"Oh you're so brave." She heard Hooch giggle.

McGonagall took a sip from her glass of wine and glanced down at her list of new Gryffindor's. She looked over Severus' shoulder to read the list he was casually doodling on. She took the list off him.

"Why do you _always _draw a picture of a hedgehog jumping into a load of balloons?" She asked.

"Because l have to be careful what I say around the new Slytherin's otherwise a lot of hot air is generated. A bit like a hedgehog jumping into a pile of balloons."

"Oh."

Snape smiled, "however in reality...I can only draw hedgehogs and balloons."

She laughed, "I see."

He leaned behind her to speak to Dumbledore. "Headmaster, could I be excused?"

Dumbledore thought for a moment, "ideally I'd rather you didn't, but if you can't wait until the end of the feast, then by all means."

"Thank you." He got up and was suddenly aware of practically everyone within the room staring at him. He took a deep breath and strode down the centre of the room towards the door and slipped out into the quiet entrance of Hogwarts.

He shivered slightly and climbed the stairs to the first floor landing. Peeves hovered nearby; "don't you even _think _about it." He snapped. Peeves immediately stopped what he was doing. It was a myth that only the Bloody Baron could control Peeves, Professor Snape could too.

* * *

Snape glanced up at the window and back as he was in the bathroom. He quickly looked back at the window; he surely couldn't have seen what he had just seen. A flying car! He shook his head, he had obviously drunk more than he had thought and the wine wasn't just going through is plumbing. He looked back; no it was still there and heading towards the Whomping Willow. He finished up and washed his hands.

A flying car, he mused, switching off the tap. Wait…a flying car…Potter and Weasley hadn't arrived on the school train. He had to admit it sounded a little far-fetched even for attention seeking Potter, but you never did know.

He headed out of the bathroom, down the stairs, across the entrance hall and through the main doors into the cold evening. For the second time, he shivered but this time he wished that he had brought a coat.

He glanced around, and set off in the direction of the Whomping Willow.

* * *

Dumbledore looked at his watch. "Severus has been an awful long time."

"He's probably got stomach ache again." McGonagall reached over for the potatoes. Professor Sinistra had taken advantage of Snape's absence and moved up several seats to get away from Lockhart.

"I'm going to kill him." She muttered.

"I think Severus has already claimed that privilege."

Sinistra shrugged, "we can draw lots. Have Potter and Weasley turned up yet?"

"No. I owled the stationmaster at King's Cross and said that he can't recall them getting on the train. To tell you the truth I'm starting to worry, Percy insists that they were dropped at the station."

* * *

The Whomping Willow was thrashing aggressively, but there was no sign of the car. Perhaps he had imagined it. He turned to walk back to the school, not before he remembered the article he had read earlier in the Daily Prophet about a flying car sighted over London. He smiled grimly, if that was the case then Weasley and Potter had flown a car to Hogwarts _and _been seen by Muggles. Underage wizardry if it at least didn't warrant removing points then it certainly allowed for expulsion.

As he neared the main doors he could make out two figures standing on tiptoes by the window. Ah, Potter and Weasley, he smiled softly and made for their location.

"Or maybe he's been sacked…" Weasley was saying. Snape had no doubt whom they meant.

"Or maybe he's waiting to hear why you two didn't arrive on the school train."

They turned horrified. Harry swallowed, this surely meant they were both doomed; it was one thing to fly a car to Hogwarts but it was another thing to be greeted by your least favourite teacher.

"Professor…" Ron stammered.

"We can explain…" Harry started.

"Follow me."

They followed Snape into the entrance hall and down into his equally cold office.

* * *

Ron stared at the various things in glass jars around Snape's office. He really didn't want to know what Snape kept in those jars nor why he kept them. Instead he focused on the extremely full bookcase in the corner of the room. The majority of the books seemed to be about potions, some of them he guessed must be about the Dark Arts, what did surprise him was the amount of Muggle fiction books. Ron knew very little about Muggle fiction, only what his dad brought home from the Ministry whenever any of his Muggle-born friends loaned him fiction; he knew some of the stories though, particularly the 'The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes', his dad was pretty much addicted to them.

"We're done for." He finally said to Harry. Snape had left them to no doubt get Professor Dumbledore. "Mum will never forgive me." Harry said nothing, he was too afraid of having to explain all this to the Dursleys. "What do you reckon he keeps in those jars?"

"What?" Harry asked looking at his friend.

"You've not said a word since Snape left us here."

"I'm thinking."

"Do you reckon Dumbledore'll expel us?"

"No, he'll understand why." Harry hoped that this was true.

"How do you think Snape knew we were outside? He can't have seen us from the window, we'd have seen him coming out of the main doors."

"Maybe he saw the car from a window or something and just put two and two together."

The door opened and Professors McGonagall, Dumbledore and Snape entered.

* * *

The next morning the castle was still talking about Harry's arrival. The Slytherin's were outraged, saying (quite logically) that if any of them had flown a car to Hogwarts_ and _been seen by Muggles then they would have been expelled immediately.

On the plus side to arriving late, they had managed to avoid Lockhart's introduction to the school. A lot of bowing had been involved.

Professor Sprout checked in her plant guide on the various ways you can repair a damaged Whomping Willow. She had opted for bandages since the Willow was likely to be far too pissed off for any other assistance; she was also on the look out for Professor Snape. He was often quite handy to have around when fixing dangerous plants, not just for his potions skills but he was very handy with a wand.

"Good morning!" Lockhart was his usual cheery self. His robes were puce, giving him the impression of a bizarre stick of rhubarb. He looked over Sprout's shoulder at the book, "I always find my own plant guide is a lot clearer than this outdated book."

"I helped write the revised edition." Sprout replied.

"Really? Well, I'm sure it's a marvellous book." He poured himself a cup of tea (having learnt to keep well away from the coffee). "Would you care for some assistance? I've met a few Whomping Willow's in my travels."

"Really." She wasn't interested.

"Yes. In fact, you could call me somewhat of an expert." He looked at his watch. "I'll tell you what, I haven't got a lesson until after break, so I'll pop over and give you some tips for treating exotic plants."

Where was Snape when you needed him? "No, no thank you. I'm sure I can manage on my own."

"It'll be my pleasure." He smiled, exposing all of his magically bleached teeth at her.

Sprout groaned.

* * *

Snape sat by the window in the staff room; he had two hours before his next lesson. Everything was prepared and ready to go. He always liked to make an impression on the first years, they always started out hearing stories from the other students and had probably all decided that he wasn't going to frighten them. Oh the fun he had.

He lit a cigarette and opened his briefcase. Well, briefcase would be pushing it a little bit, it was more stuck together and battered to be called anything, so far (like the coffee pot) he had resisted any change. Alastor was always trying to buy him one for his birthday or Christmas, but he too was beginning to learn that Snape was somewhat attached to his briefcase.

"What?!" He pulled out a caterpillar. It looked sleepily at him, clearly annoyed to be woken at this time of day. He made a mental note to speak to Professor Sprout about these caterpillars; usually they were something to do with her. Or Hagrid.

He fished out his lesson plan for the first year Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff lesson. Yes, everything was ready. He noticed that there was a letter sticking out the corner of his book ('The Portrait of Dorian Gray'), he picked it up. It was a letter from his partner, Alastor; he smiled to himself and settled down to read it.

Half an hour later the disgruntled Herbology teacher marching into the room disturbed his thoughts. "_Why _Dumbledore had to hire that incompetent fool…"

"I presume you're talking about our esteemed _celebrity_." Snape replied folding the letter away.

"Yes. The…bastard had the nerve to tell _me _how to treat a Whomping Willow. He then proceeded to tell my Gryffindor/Hufflepuff class that he was showing me the _right_ way to doctor a Whomping Willow!"

He held out his cigarette case, she took one. "Thankfully he hasn't felt the need to impart any knowledge upon me yet."

Sprout pulled up a chair and sat opposite him, "have you read any of his books?"

"Yes." Snape admitted, lighting Sprout's cigarette for her. "Enough to decide that they are pretentious works of fiction."

"You don't think he did any of those things?"

"I don't deny that they _happened _I just doubt his involvement. He doesn't seem that capable."

She looked around, "do you think he's…you know…"

"Gay? Possibly."

"Okay." She leaned back in her chair, "as a gay man do you find him attractive?"

"No. I can see how people do, but personally no."

"Do you think Alastor would?"

"I don't think so. He tends to go for…men, rather than queens."

Sprout laughed, "and you would describe Lockhart as a queen?"

"Oh yes."

"Why don't you ask him?"

"Ask him?" He shook his head, "you ask him. I'm not interested."

"Do you think Filius would?"

"I doubt it."

A bell rang somewhere deep within the castle.


	4. The Chamber is Opened

**Title:** The Gospel, according to Gilderoy Lockhart. Or, The Hogwarts Gazette  
**Chapter: **Four: The Chamber is Opened  
**Rating:** M  
**Synopsis:** Prequel to 'The Meaning of Life at Hogwarts (or The Hogwarts School Band)': This takes place during Harry's second year at Hogwarts, during the time of Gilderoy Lockhart. To assist his already over-inflated ego Lockhart suggests that the students put together their own paper – 'The Hogwarts Gazette'. Unfortunately, Severus Snape ends up on the wrong end of Hermione Granger's pen.  
**Original Character(s):** Alistor Daker, a sadistic coffee-pot and several paper eating caterpillars.  
**Legal:** All the characters (besides those mentioned in the above) are the creation of the wonderful JK Rowling, this story has been written because I was bored and had nothing more exciting to do. This isn't for profit.  
**Authors Note:** Muffin, my brother's six-year-old guinea pig and lover to Javert (my darling) sadly passed away on the 15th December. She will be greatly missed. In other news, thank God for book sales! I've lifted some of the office exchanges in 'The Writing on the Wall' out of the book. The word of the day is prerogative and the musical of the week is You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown!

The Chamber is Opened

"Good afternoon." Professor Snape said closing the door behind him. He walked to the front of his Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff first year class, feeling twenty sets of eyes staring at him. He glared at them for a moment.

"I am Professor Snape, the Potions Master here at Hogwarts. Unlike other teachers I do not accept excuses, homework is to be completed on time and to an acceptable standard. This lesson is dangerous and as a result any unacceptable behaviour will _not _be tolerated." He glanced at the first years. "There is no wand-waving, or incantations in this class. Potion making is an art and a skill; many of you will not appreciate this and so will only be with me for a short time. Those of you who prove capable will be joining me for a full seven years of study. This subject is _not _easy and I expect you all to work hard." He picked up his register and began to call out the names.

"Luna Lovegood…You are the daughter of Hugh Lovegood, I presume?"

"Yes professor," Luna replied "and you're Severus William Snape."

He paused, "how do you know that?"

"You have a subscription to _The Quibbler_." A few people laughed. "Correct." The laughing stopped abruptly. "Sarah Mitchell…" He continued.

"Here professor." A rather timid girl on the front row replied.

----

"Be warned." Lockhart turned to his fourth year class, "I am going to ask you to confront your fears, some of the things you will see today may well stay with you for life."

They were practically on the edge of their seats.

"Not everyone has the stomach for the Dark Arts; the creatures are often things of nightmares. I have come across almost all of the Dark creatures we will be discussing, for further reference please see my published works." He waved a hand at the pile of books on their desks. "In a few moments I will be handing out a short test to see how well you have read the books."

A small groan rippled through the room; it was their first Defence lesson and already a test!

----

"Welcome back!" Professor Flitwick clapped his hands. "This is going to be an intense year of study, we will be looking at more advanced Charms, such as the Summoning Charm. In a years time you will be taking your Ordinary Wizarding Level exams; so, I shouldn't really waffle on wasting precious time and let's get to work!"

He paired his class up, distributing a pillow to each pair.

"Now, the incantation is '_Accio_!' For example, for calling your cushion, point your wand and say," he pointed at a nearby cushion, "_accio_ _cushion_!" The cushion flew towards him and he caught it delicately.

----

Professor Kettleburn walked down the corridor, his wooden leg clicking against the stone. He wasn't looking forward to another year teaching Care of Magical Creatures, it was getting far too dangerous. He could remember with a deep fondness the times when all that was permitted study was kneazles and the like; they weren't quite as dangerous or likely to maim. _Next year_, he said to himself, _next year I will be spending time with my remaining limbs and my wife_. One more year to get through. One more year of teaching the Weasley twins.

----

Professor Snape demonstrated the Baldness Cure Potion to his class of Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff first years whilst they made notes and asked appropriate questions. He enjoyed teaching the Ravenclaw's, they were inquisitive, clever and willing to learn, the Hufflepuff's were quite fun as well.

"The potion will now simmer for twenty-minutes. Remember to stir it clockwise every five minutes, so in twenty minutes you should have stirred the potion how many times?" He looked up. "Miss Marshall?"

"Four, sir."

"Almost. Anyone else? Miss Lovegood?"

"Five."

"Good. Ten points to Ravenclaw. This potion took me only ten minutes to prepare, I expect you to take at least forty minutes, as this is your first attempt and I have been doing this for my most of my life."

He quickly paired them up; he didn't have to worry about inter-house squabbles and so they were paired house-to-house. They set about preparing their ingredients; whilst doing so Snape continued with his own potion, it would have been a waste of ingredients to dump the contents and it could be a useful sample.

He bottled his sample. Opening his desk draw to get a label he discovered an envelope. Curiously he took it from his desk; he recognised the handwriting immediately and placed it in his inside pocket for later reading. He did sometimes wish that Alastor didn't leave letters around for him to discover during his first week back, they were reassuring though so he wasn't going to put a stop to it.

He proceeded to observe his class, checking with each student.

An hour later the bell rang. There had been no catastrophes; no cuts, no burns and everyone completed the potion, each bottling a sample and placing it on his desk on the way out. His homework had simply been to write 12inches of parchment on the Baldness Potion and it's ingredients.

He sat down giving his feet a deserved rest and took out his letter. He had five minutes before his class arrived and this would be enough time to read it.

He carefully opened the envelope and started to read.

_By my estimation you found this letter during a first year class. You're far too predictable, my dear! _

_Unfortunately my powers of perception can't tell me if you've got a Gryffindor/Slytherin class, or a Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff class...hopefully the latter. _

_I'm counting the days until we can be back together again. I'm soppy I know, but hey can I help it if I find you drop dead sexy? I daren't even put into writing my plans for the night we are reunited; let's just say you won't be leaving our bed for at least twenty-four hours. _

_Possibly unable to walk. _

_That's right, professor, I plan to screw your brains out! (Hopefully that has just made you blush)_

He did indeed blush.

_Before I forget, my mother has invited us for Boxing Day. She also dropped hints about putting locks on the bedroom door this year to prevent any 'unfortunate viewing' again; I believe my niece will be in attendance with her husband and kiddie-wink. _

The unfortunate viewing had been last year when they had been…engaged in a little bit of early morning fun when Alastor's mother walked in to enquire if they wanted a cup of tea. It had been hard to say who had been more embarrassed!

Alastor's sister was seven years older than the pair. She had become pregnant soon after leaving Hogwarts, and now she was a grandmother of two years. Severus had never met either the sister or the niece; there had been some sort of family argument the year previously and she hadn't been invited to the Boxing Day dinner. Snape hadn't asked what the argument had been about.

_I'm taking full advantage of your absence to begin getting back into shape. I doubt I can re-join the ranks of the Elite, but I can certainly work as an Auror. My vision should be back to normal soon, St Mungo's aren't quite as hopeful but I know everything will be top notch, maybe not 20-20 and I'll have to don spectacles. Maybe something like yours...I know you hide them when you're working but really, are the headaches really worth it?_

Several years ago Alastor had been a member of the 'secret' branch of the Magical Law Enforcement known only as the 'Elite Squad'; it was akin to MI5 in the Muggle world, and the government was still denying it's existence. They dealt with the spies, double agents and the other dubious characters that the Auror's used for information regarding Dark Wizards, it was dangerous work and sadly Alastor had been seriously injured one-night three years ago. He had been hit in the face with a particularly nasty curse and was almost blinded; it had cost him his job and he was still recovering physical and mentally from the incident. Magic couldn't cure blindness.

Snape did indeed wear glasses, only for reading. The torments he had endured at school made him uncomfortable wearing them in public and so he only did so in private.

_My love to Minerva, Albus and the rest of the gaggle. _

_Alastor_

The second bell rang and he folded his letter away.

----

The week progressed slowly. Minerva McGonagall sat in her office after classes on Friday afternoon. She needed to think of appropriate detentions for Ron Weasley and Harry Potter. She had thought about sending them with Hagrid into the Forbidden Forest again, but it hadn't had much impact the year before.

They got on well with Hagrid and might see it as a soft option. She had ignored Severus' suggestion of locking Harry Potter in a small room at the top of the Astronomy tower until he graduated. She glanced at her desk, and the tidy piles of marking. Perhaps some sort of non-magical labour should be in order, for at least Mr Weasley.

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in." She called. To her dismay, Gilderoy Lockhart entered. "I heard you had a little trouble with Cornish Pixies."

"Oh nothing that couldn't be controlled. I could have stopped it immediately, but I felt it was a good idea to allow them to encounter the little buggers."

"Really." She smiled at him. "Can I help you, Gilderoy?"

"I was thinking about young Harry's detention. He seems to be striving for attention, to make himself known." That sounded like someone else. "As I am in a position where I am known, I receive a great deal of attention. I receive thousands upon thousands of fan letters. Perhaps it would be a suitable punishment for Harry to address envelopes. Make him realise that fame has its prices."

"Well…" She thought quickly, "Professor Snape usually needs a hand…"

"No offence to Severus, but I doubt he has the _expertise_ to deal with children like Harry." McGonagall disagreed, she thought that Snape had all the skills in the world to deal with children like Harry.

She sighed; it might be suitable punishment to spend time alone with Gilderoy Lockhart. "All right, Gilderoy. I will send Potter along to your office tomorrow night at eight."

"I shall expect him."

----

Madam Pince hummed to herself as she dusted her precious bookshelves with a bright pink feather duster. You had to be careful around magical books, most of them hated being dusty. She cast a beady eye at the long tables, making sure that the students where behaving themselves. They were.

She saw Professor Snape enter and hurried over to speak to him.

"Professor."

"Good afternoon, Madam Pince."

"Is there anything I can help you with?"

"No. I was returning these." He handed several books over, all them about Potions.

Madam Pince didn't trust the Potions Master, he read far too much. She remembered him as a student, he spent hours in the library reading and making notes. He had been a very jumpy child, whenever she had approached him at closing time he had almost jumped out of his seat. There was something very strange about him.

She took the books and check the return dates. "Thank you, professor."

----

Halloween was fast approaching, the ghosts were excited and the House Elves were fast preparing the castle for the forthcoming festivities. Professor Dumbledore was rumoured to be booking a group of dancing skeletons. There was the extra excitement over Nearly Headless Nick's five hundredth Death Day.

Harry Potter had been wandering around seemingly in a daze. He didn't like hearing voices; the dismembered voice haunted him. No one would believe him. He found himself distracted in most of his lessons, and to make matters worse Gilderoy Lockhart seemed to enjoy making him an exhibition out of him during his lessons. He found himself in a daydream as Snape addressed the class.

"From your Transfiguration lessons you should all have a basic understanding of how you can change one object into another. There are potions that can do a more effective job. You can even change _who _you are." He glanced round the room and saw that Hermione Granger had raised her hand. He sighed, "yes Ms Granger?"

"What do you mean by who you are?" She asked.

"There is a potion called the Polyjuice Potion, which you would use for turning _into _someone else. For example if you wished to change places with Mr Malfoy, you could drink the Polyjuice Potion and for one hour you would have the body of Mr Malfoy, but not the mind. It's a complex potion and which the Ministry has tried to ban on numerous occasions, but has not been successful. If you are interested there is a book called _Moste Potente Potions_, which we do have a copy in the school library, which would tell you more." He turned and pointed his wand at the blackboard. "Today we will be working on a much simpler potion, one of which I can assure is very useful, for treating acne."

The class set to work. Harry set about cutting up his ingredients, he hadn't really been listening to Snape's lecture and found himself unable to concentrate on his potion. It made a gurgling sound and he instinctively stepped back. Snape walked over, without saying anything he waved his wand at Harry's cauldron and the gurgling concoction vanished.

"I don't want to waste my time putting you in detention, Potter." He said. "Nothing can clearly penetrate that thick skull of yours. Twelve inches of parchment on my desk tomorrow about the importance of paying attention during a Potions lesson." He stalked away.

----

"Does Luna Lovegood remind you of anyone?" Professor Flitwick asked Minvera McGonagall as she helped herself to coffee. For once the coffee pot was in a good mood and so coffee was indeed what you got out of the thing. You had to be careful though, the slightest thing could set it off.

"Now you mention it, yes she does." She sat down with her mug. She had absently selected the bright yellow mug with the happy faces on it; it had been a gift to Severus Snape from his partner, Alastor. They all appreciated the irony.

"She's quite the loner. The other Ravenclaw's don't really want much to do with her, she's a bit too eccentric for them I think."

"What can you expect, her father is the editor for _The Quibbler_."

"Do you think we should perhaps point out the similarities?"

"He probably recognises her traits."

"Do you think I should be concerned?"

"About Ms Lovegood? No, I don't think so." She sipped her coffee thoughtfully. "We're all eccentric, Filius. She probably fits in more than she realises."

"You're right."

----

Luna Lovegood was in the library again, Madam Pince observed. She was another one who spent her time with her head buried in a book or that outrageous magazine _The Quibbler_. Really, that sort of thing shouldn't be allowed in a school. She had her quill stuck behind her ear…funnily she reminded her of someone.

----

Albus Dumbledore casually scribbled a note in the margin of the book that he was reading; it suddenly jumped up and began beating him around the head. Ah, he'd forgotten it was a library book. He tried to duck out of the way, but the book continued to attack him. Flustering slightly he grabbed his wand and froze the book mid-attack. He might have a word with Madam Pince about her charms; someone could lose an eye.

He put aside the book and picked his copy of 'Transfiguration Monthly' only to discover several caterpillars enjoying dinner. He shook them off his magazine; they landed on his desk with an undignified 'thud'. The slightly larger one (clearly the ringleader) raised itself up and appeared to be in the process of shaking his fist…well, it seemed like that.

----

The Halloween celebrations were going well. For once Severus Snape was enjoying himself. The dancing skeletons amused him, and he was generally in a good mood. Professor Flitwick hiccuped into his wine, if the little man didn't slow down he was going to have to be carried out of the Great Hall.

Flitwick reached for the bottle; Professor McGonagall took it away before he could reach it. "I think you've had enough, Filius."

"Oh just one more." He slurred.

"No, not unless you want to be carried out of here." She cautioned. Flitwick stuck his tongue out at her. "Really Filius." Snape smirked behind his goblet.

"I wonder where Gilderoy is." Madam Hooch asked looking at her watch.

"He probably walked passed a mirror." Snape replied. Several people snorted into their goblets. "If he so much attempts to discuss Potions with me tonight, I might scream."

"You don't strike me as the vocal type." Dumbledore smiled as the Potions teacher blushed. "I wonder how Sir Nicholas is getting on with his Death Day Party."

----

At the end of the Halloween Feast the school made its way sleepily back to their respective dormitories. Or at least they tried to. Several people screamed when they saw the writing on the wall and backed away from the frozen Mrs Norris. Most just stared at Harry, Ron and Hermione, what had they been doing here?

Argus Filch burst through the crowds, screaming at Harry. "You've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you –" He lunged at Harry but at that moment Dumbledore appeared and seized Filch's arm.

"_Argus_!"

He detached Mrs Norris from the torch bracket and turned to the gathered students. "Prefects take everyone back to their houses." Dumbledore called. No one needed telling twice. He never allowed his eyes to leave Harry's. He turned to Argus Filch, "Come with me, Argus. You too Mr Potter, Mr Weasley, Ms Granger."

At Lockhart's suggestion they had gone to his office. Snape had prevent himself from gagging seeing the many portraits and pictures of Lockhart staring down at him. _What a complete pillock_ he thought to himself glancing at the portraits.

Dumbledore bent over Mrs Norris, muttering and carefully examining her. Meanwhile Lockhart was hovering around like a great big blue bottle. Snape was struggling not to laugh at the Defence against the Dark Arts teacher as he pranced around the room.

"It was definitely a curse that killed her – probably the Transmogrifian Torture. I've seen it used many times, so unlucky I wasn't there, I know the every counter-curse that would have saved her…"

Snape found himself wishing that Lockhart _hadn't _known the counter-curse and had been frozen in some far off country. He knew what the Transmogrifian Torture curse looked like, he'd seen it used first hand, and it certainly didn't leave the victim in a paralysed state. He felt sorry for the caretaker, slumped in the corner; Lockhart certainly wasn't making the situation better.

"…I remember something very similar happening in Ouagadougou, a series of attacks. Full story's in my autobiography. I was able to provide the townsfolk with various amulets which cleared the matter up at once…" Lockhart continued.

_Please shut up._ Snape thought, glancing at Professor McGonagall who was clearly thinking the same thing.

"She's not dead." Dumbledore said turning to them. "She's been petrified."

"Ah! I thought so!" Lockhart cried.

After Filch once more accused Harry of bewitching his beloved cat, and once again Snape tried to get Harry removed from the Quidditch Team (which would have been his own personal revenge) the conversation turned to how they were going to undo what had been done.

"We will be able to cure her, Argus." Dumbledore said patiently. "Professor Sprout recently managed to procure some Mandrakes. As soon as they have reached their full size, I will have a potion mate which will revive Mrs Norris."

"I'll make it," Lockhart butted in. "I must have done it a hundred times, I could whip up a Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep…"

"Excuse me," said Snape icily, "but I believe I am the Potions master at this school."

There was an awkward pause, during which Dumbledore dismissed Harry, Ron and Hermione who seemed only too glad to be getting out of the suddenly tense office.

"I think I'd better…" Lockhart attempted to leave.

"Do you believe that you would make a better Potions master?"

"No! Of course not, Severus, I respect your abilities after all you are the youngest Potions master in over a century."

"Quite."

Before another awkward pause could descend, Dumbledore spoke.

"I think that it is best that we don't draw unnecessary attention to this." He indicated Mrs Norris; "we don't want to cause any panic."

"I'll speak to Professor Sprout for a update with the Mandrakes." Snape made to leave the room.

"I'll do…" Lockhart caught Snape's eye, "you best." Snape left.

"Argus, I know that you are very upset but I think it would be best if you…removed the writing on he wall."

"Yes sir." Filch wiped his nose on the back of his sleeve. "Can I…?"

"Of course, take Mrs Norris to your office and make her comfortable." The headmaster smiled kindly at him, "do not worry she will soon be back to normal." The caretaker left with his beloved cat cradled in his arms. "Gilderoy, Severus is very good at his job and I think it would be very wise not to help."

"Yes…" He replied meekly.

"His barks worse than his bite." McGonagall reassured before leaving the room, "although it is best to provoke him. Goodnight, Gilderoy." She left.

Coming soon, **101 Days of Randomness**!


	5. 101 Days of Randomness

**Title:** The Gospel, according to Gilderoy Lockhart. Or, The Hogwarts Gazette

**Chapter: **Five: 101 Days of Randomness  
**Rating:** M

**Synopsis:** Prequel to 'The Meaning of Life at Hogwarts (or The Hogwarts School Band)': This takes place during Harry's second year at Hogwarts, during the time of Gilderoy Lockhart. To assist his already over-inflated ego Lockhart suggests that the students put together their own paper – 'The Hogwarts Gazette'. Unfortunately, Severus Snape ends up on the wrong end of Hermione Granger's pen.  
**Original Character(s):** Alistor Daker, a sadistic coffee-pot and an army of caterpillars

**Legal:** All the characters (besides those mentioned in the above) are the creation of the wonderful JK Rowling, this story has been written because I was bored and had nothing more exciting to do. This isn't for profit.

**Authors Note:** If you get the reference in the title and you're under eighteen – shame on you! If you get the reference and _over _eighteen – ooh, matron. Do you think it's strange that my spell check accepted 'Salazar' without questioning it? The word of the day is affenpinscher and the musical of the week is Sherlock Holmes: the Musical

101 Days of Randomness 

The events of October 31st were discussed at every possible moment, during breaks, in classes and in the dormitories. It hadn't exactly escaped the staff attention; they were being badgered about the Chamber of Secrets constantly. Privately though, Madam Pince was very happy – people were using the library as a _library _and every single one copy of 'Hogwarts a History' had been taken out.

Professor Binns was muttering darkly about how people were only interested in _myth _and not stone-cold historical fact. He was in a bad mood. Apparently a student had asked a question during his second year History of Magic class.

"Will you stop complaining!" Snape snapped, "you should be glad that students are using the appropriate lesson to ask questions!" (He had been asked constant questions by his classes today.)

"It's _hardly _appropriate! I teach History of Magic, not mythology!" Came the equally angry reply.

"Myths have their basis in history. King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table heading off an quest to find the Holy Grail is a _myth _based on historical truth."

"Don't try to lecture me, young Smith!"

"Snape."

"Whatever!" With that Professor Binns disappeared through the staff room wall.

Professor Lockhart (who had been listening to this conversation) sat down next to Snape, who groaned inwardly. Thankfully Lockhart had been wisely avoiding him for the past few weeks, after words had been exchanged in his office.

"What exactly is the Chamber of Secrets?" He asked in a low voice.

"Why are you whispering?" Snape asked, "afraid someone might overhear and see what a complete fool you are?"

"No, of course not! I was making sure we weren't overheard by one who isn't to by privy to the information."

"Do you ever listen to yourself when you talk?" Lockhart turned crimson; Snape caught McGonagall's disproving eye and sighed. "The legend goes that Salazar Slytherin built a secret chamber somewhere within the school. According to legend a creature of some-sorts is supposed to in this chamber."

"Oh how marvellous! What is this creature supposed to do?"

Snape shrugged, "who knows? Slytherin supposedly sealed the chamber, so that it could only be opened when his true heir arrived at Hogwarts."

"Has anyone thought of looking for this chamber?"

"Yes, and nothing has ever been found."

"So…that message…"

"Is neither here nor there, now piss off I'm busy."

Lockhart made as if to say something, but catching Snape's eye he decided against it and sauntered out of the staff room.

McGonagall looked over at him; "you certainly know your Hogwarts history, Severus."

"I'm a closet bookworm." He shrugged. "And you certainly can't be Head of Slytherin without knowing your history."

She laughed, "no you certainly can't."

* * *

The obscure invasion of paper eating caterpillars was slowly getting worse. After Professor Sprout had denied all knowledge of the creatures the blame had fallen to Professor Kettleburn. As far as he was are there were no such things as paper eating caterpillars, but the world was changing and so perhaps caterpillars had evolved to eat paper. _It would make sense_ he mused.

Sadly though he was also being made to round the buggers up before they got into the library. He carefully baited the trap with a few pages of an old book he had found in the back of his wardrobe. It wasn't his book, and probably belonged to a previous teacher.

He wasn't exactly sure how one would go about capturing caterpillars, but hopefully this would work. He stood back to admire his handy work – miniature mousetraps!

* * *

Professor Snape had drawn the short straw again. Supervising prep. He hated spending his free time ensuring that people did their homework, he didn't mind so much when he was supervising the House prep, but this really was taking the piss.

"Sir, how do you spell celestial?"

"C-E-L-E-S-T-I-A-L."

* * *

"Ah, Professor." Dumbledore looked up as Professor Kettleburn entered his office. "Do sit down." Kettleburn sat down. "What can I help with?"

"I expressed my wish to retire at the end of this year, and I was wondering if you had found a suitable replacement. I would very much like to meet with them."

"Ah. Yes." He searched through several piles of paper. "At the moment there has been very little response to the advert I placed in the Daily Prophet."

"…Oh."

"I have however been in touch with Whilemnia Grubby-Plank, she said she would be delighted to cover until I find a permanent replacement."

"You can't have a _supply_ teacher!"

"I'm sorry, but there seem to be very few people willing to teach the subject."

"What about the other schools? Surely someone there fancies the challenge."

"We are only one of four schools in Europe that teach this scheme."

"Can't you switch schemes?"

"I did suggest to the school board that we changed, but they feel that our current scheme is right for the school. Don't worry, I'm sure a suitable replacement will be found by the end of the year."

"Good. I have no intention of handing over my classes to a _supply _teacher."

"Professor Grubby-Plank is well-respected…"

Kettleburn waved his hand, "just because the woman wrote the book on Dragons, doesn't mean she is suitable to teach my classes."

"She has taught here before."

"When she loses a limb, I may start to take her seriously, but really Albus…"

* * *

The coffee pot gurgled and Lockhart instinctively took a step back. It didn't seem to like him very much; the other teachers actually (occasionally) managed to get coffee out of the thing! All he could manage was a foul smelling concoction potent enough to strip the paint off the walls.

"Perhaps you should switch to tea, Gilderoy." McGonagall wrinkled her nose at the smell wafting across the staff room.

"I just don't understand it…" He poked his wand at the mixture. It exploded.

"Goodness!" McGonagall visibly jumped. "Leave it alone and make a cup of tea!"

He sighed and turned his attentions to the teapot. It growled at him. "Perhaps I best not. After all, I do have to be careful what toxins I put in my body."

"Do people frequently poison you?" Snape muttered darkly.

"I don't know what you mean." Lockhart snorted and sat down at the table. "Oh, splendid a jigsaw!"

"Providing you're not as terrible as Severus, you can join in." Sinistra grinned.

"I am not _terrible_!" Snape replied somewhat hotly.

"Severus, we spent an entire afternoon putting the sky right." McGonagall looked over her glasses at him, "I would have thought you would have noticed that trees don't tend to be in the sky."

"The pieces fitted!"

"The picture didn't."

"What is the picture?" Lockhart leaned over the table for the box lid. It was blank.

"We won't find out until it's complete. Since we seem to have trees, I'm guessing a mountain scene."

"It was a mountain scene last time." Sinistra replied, fitting two pieces together. "I'm still holding out for a group of naked firemen."

"Has…er, anything like that happened before?" Lockhart seemed intrigued.

"No." She replied sadly. "Severus has a rude jigsaw, but he won't bring it with him."

"Really? And what is the picture?"

"You seem particularly interested." Snape observed, "are you queer, Lockhart?"

"Certainly not!" He replied (a little too quickly).

"There's no shame in it."

"I'm not queer!"

"Of course not."

"Are you looking forward to the Quidditch season?" Lockhart quickly changed the subject. "I was asked to play at National level in my day, but I turned it down to pursue my dream of eradicating the world of Dark Forces."

"So you've said before." McGonagall fitted a few more pieces into the puzzle.

"I believe that Gryffindor is the Quidditch Cup holder."

"We are."

"So, hoping to hold on to it this year?"

"Certainly. What do you think, Severus, are your Slytherin's up to the challenge?"

"They won't go down without a challenge." He replied. "Draco Malfoy has bought himself onto the team this year, but to be fair he is a particularly good flyer."

"I heard about that."

Snape shrugged, "what can you do?"

* * *

After the bone-banishing incident during the Gryffindor vs Slytherin game, Lockhart was keeping his head down. Madam Pomfrey had already had a loud discussion with him about his unauthorised use of healing spells. He hadn't really done that much wrong, the bones weren't broken anymore.

Madam Pomfrey had practically chased Lockhart down the corridor. For some reason, no one had come to his assistance. He hid in his office, slamming the door behind him. He caught the eye of one of his portraits; "don't you start!"

* * *

Midnight arrived and Professor Albus Dumbledore was knocking on the door of Professor Minerva McGonagall's private quarters. If this was unusual none of the ghosts seemed to think so, each one who floated past gave the ageing headmaster a wink, as did a wise caterpillar, as it carefully extracted the paper from a trap placed in a darkened corner.

"Yes?" McGonagall asked sleepily opening the door. "Albus!" She exclaimed seeing the headmaster standing outside with a grin on his face.

"May I come in?" He asked

"Of…of course." She stepped back to let him in, pausing to check the corridor before she closed the door behind them. She turned to him. He held up a bottle of wine as if this was a good enough answer to be sitting in a woman's bedroom at midnight. She sighed. "Albus, we can't keep doing this."

"I think it's romantic. Clandestine meetings in hotel rooms, midnight visits."

"We're both married…"

"To the wrong people." He finished. "Now please don't tell me I have to drink this all by myself?"

McGonagall sighed. "Since you're here…"

"Good." Dumbledore embraced her. "Maybe we should run away together."

"Who would look after the school?"

"Ah. Perhaps we should run away together and then come back."

"That defeats the point of eloping."

"Such a pain!"

They slowly danced around the room together to music only they could hear. The 'affair' had been going on for thirty-six years now, ever since McGonagall had taken his place as Transfiguration teacher in 1957. Technically, Dumbledore hadn't been at the school at the time he had been 'away', but that hadn't stopped them seeing each other during holidays; when had had come back to the school in 1960, he had returned not as the Transfiguration teacher, but as Defence against the Dark Arts teacher. Dippet had thought that Dumbledore had been the ideal candidate, after his three-year sabbatical facing all-sorts of Dark Forces. Their affair had continued, despite less than ideal situations.

There was a loud BANG! From outside the room.

"What was that?" McGonagall turned to Dumbledore.

"Stay here." He replied, taking out his wand.

He opened the door carefully and stepped slowly out, holding his wand in front of him. Looking around he couldn't see anything, nothing except a statue lying on the floor next to a bag of grapes. Wait…

"Minerva!" She hurried out. "We have to get him to the hospital wing."

"What if someone asks what you…"

"I was going for hot chocolate."

* * *

The teachers sat round in the candle-lit staff room. Albus Dumbledore had announced that he believed the Chamber of Secrets was indeed open again, and that they all needed to be extra-cautious until it the culprit apprehended. Needless to say, the atmosphere was somewhat depleted.

"So, what's actually in the Chamber of Secrets?" Professor Sprout asked, slotting a piece of the jigsaw puzzle into place.

"No one knows." McGonagall replied, putting the piece that Sprout had just put in, in another place.

"I think we should mount a search! I'm sure I could locate this Chamber, and remove the threat before anyone else dies." Lockhart announced.

"No one has died!"

"Yet." Snape replied quietly.

"Be quiet, Severus. Gilderoy, searching the school would be an impossible task. It's been done hundreds of times before, and it was done fifty years when…this happened. No one found anything then." McGonagall continued.

"What do we do in the meantime?" Sprout asked.

McGonagall shrugged, "keep our eyes open."

"I don't mean to boast, but I have been involved in hundreds of situations like this and I perhaps it is best if I began search. After all, parents and students will want to be reassured and knowing that I'm here, on hand doing my bit will no doubt reassure them." All eyes turned to Lockhart. "See my published work for further detail."

"You can shove your published work…"

"Severus!"

"I'm sorry." (He wasn't). "Professor McGonagall, this…creature…"

"Let's not talk about it anymore." Sinistra cleared her throat, "so, Severus what are you doing for your birthday?"

"Oh a birthday, how wonderful! When is it?" Lockhart clapped his hands in delight.

"None of your business, Lockhart. Annie, I'll talk to you later." He did have plans, but he would rather Lockhart was privy to them.

They continued their jigsaw in silence for another hour, before Lockhart broke the silence.

"You know, I was thinking about writing a teaching manual."

"A teaching manual?" McGonagall looked disapprovingly at him. "And what would you put in this…teaching manual?"

"Oh I don't know. Use my personal experience to offer advice to those planning on a career as a teacher."

"You've only been here two months!"

"You can learn an awful lot in two months. For instance, in two months I was on top of every best seller list in Europe!" They had heard this story far too many times.

"Severus is a published writer." Sinistra commented, taking a sip of her tea.

"Really! Well, you certainly have been keeping secrets. Perhaps we should get together some time and discuss the writing world. I am always willing to impart knowledge on the less experienced."

Snape wanted to say 'I'd rather fuck a blender', but instead said: "No."

Lockhart continued to press the Potions Master for information. "So, what have you had published?"

"None of your business."

"He's been the associated writer on several Potions books, the consultant on several more, three poetry anthologies and a couple of murder mysteries." Sinistra finished for him, earning a look that clearly said 'grr'.

"Oh marvellous! Anything that I'm likely to know?"

"You know those Angus Cavandish murder mysteries on radio?" McGonagall asked.

"Oh rather, awfully good aren't they? Almost equal to mine." He grinned, "…except of course, mine aren't fictional." He added hurriedly. "Written anonymously, I believe."

"You're sitting across from the author."

Lockhart almost did a double take; the Angus Cavandish radio-mysteries were on the world wide best seller lists. He was secretly jealous; so far he had only been able to sell in Europe he hadn't managed to crack the American market.

"Extraordinary! I've always fancied writing something fictional. The challenge of creating my own characters, plots…When do you find the time to write them?"

Snape offered his case of cigarettes round, only Sprout took one, "actually," he lit his cigarette, "I wrote them when I was about sixteen."

"Sixteen? Good lord, it's taken you a while in getting published! My first book was published three weeks after I sent off the manuscript! I must introduce you to my agent."

"I never intended to publish them. A certain someone, who shall remain nameless," he glared at Professor Sinistra, "sent the manuscripts to a publisher without my knowledge."

"You shouldn't have shown me them!" Sinistra grinned at the others. "You agreed at the time, and before you say anything a drunken agreement is still an agreement."

"Only if the person can remember it."

She stuck out her tongue, "screw me."

"Now, now ladies." McGonagall intervened. "Since we don't seem to be getting anywhere with this jigsaw, perhaps we should play cards."

"Stip Poker!" Sprout yelled.

"Oh, no I possibly couldn't." Lockhart smiled, "after all, I don't want to make Severus jealous."

"Why would I be jealous of you?" Snape asked.

"Oh, well you know…" He stuck out his chest in a way that said 'look at my sexy body'.

Snape snorted, "oh please."

"Let's not get too adventurous, Pomona." McGonagall said. She certainly didn't want to see Gilderoy Lockhart naked…or Severus Snape for that matter. "How about we play a simple game of pontoon?"

They began to play in silence, which from previous experience they knew wouldn't last very long. Also from previous experience it was somewhat obvious who was going to break the silence…the coffee pot was beginning to wish it had put money on it.

"You know," Lockhart started, "since we have two accomplished writers on staff, and the mood around the school is a little…depleted, how about we start a school newspaper?"

"A newspaper?" McGonagall looked at him, "and who would do this newspaper?"

"The pupils."

This was perhaps the first sensible suggestion Lockhart had made his entire life, not that he was aware of this fact.

"That's actually not a bad idea." Sprout mused. "Although, I think it would be very difficult for us to find the time to…"

"Ah, but the beauty of the situation is that _we _won't be involved!" He beamed, "well, only at an elementary level, such as interviewees and the such like. Let them run it themselves."

"I don't think it's a good idea." Snape lit another cigarette. "Things would get out of hand."

"I don't think so, I think if only the mature students were in charge then it wouldn't be a problem." McGonagall replied.

"Key word, 'mature'."

"There are quite a few, Severus. Not really in the younger years, more the older lot."

"I think some of the older years are less-mature than the first years." Sinistra commented.

"I agree." Sprout added. "It _is _a good idea, but like Severus said, things would get out of hand if we let the pupils have sole control."

"I would gladly volunteer to oversee the paper…"

"I think you're the last person I'd want working on a newspaper, Lockhart." Snape muttered.

Lockhart sighed, "well if you don't want to hear my suggestions…"

"We don't."

"I _was _going to ask you to assist at the Duelling Club…"

"What Duelling Club?" He asked, suspicious.

"Oh, has Albus not told you? He has graciously agreed to allow me to set up a little Duelling Club; teach the pupils how to defend themselves, in case of attack."

"I think it would be a very good idea for Severus to be involved." McGonagall looked at him with a somewhat desperate look, who knew the havoc Lockhart would cause if let to his own devices. Imagine the damage!

"Do I have much choice in the matter?"

Tune in next time for the launch of the** Hogwarts Gazette**!


	6. Hogwarts Gazette

**Title:** The Gospel, according to Gilderoy Lockhart. Or, The Hogwarts Gazette

**Chapter: **Six: The Hogwarts Gazette  
**Rating:** M

**Synopsis:** Prequel to 'The Meaning of Life at Hogwarts (or The Hogwarts School Band)': This takes place during Harry's second year at Hogwarts, during the time of Gilderoy Lockhart. To assist his already over-inflated ego Lockhart suggests that the students put together their own paper – 'The Hogwarts Gazette'. Unfortunately, Severus Snape ends up on the wrong end of Hermione Granger's pen.  
**Original Character(s):** Alistor Daker, a sadistic coffee-pot and an army of paper eating caterpillars

**Legal:** All the characters (besides those mentioned in the above) are the creation of the wonderful JK Rowling, this story has been written because I was bored and had nothing more exciting to do. This isn't for profit.

**Authors Note:** Hm…this was _technically _written on December 31st 2005, however I didn't finish it until the wee hours of the morning, so it was finished in 2006. Happy New Year everyone! I _really really _don't want to go back to college to finish that stupid Theatre Electrics course…why did I do it??! The word of the day is couverture and the musical of the week is Snoopy: the Musical

The Hogawrts Gazette 

Severus Snape turned to face his Thursday afternoon second year Gryffindor/Slytherin class. He hated this lesson; he spent far too much making sure the little buggers didn't blow up his classroom. Not that it was a particularly nice classroom but it was the principle of the thing.

Three years ago he had had to evacuate the dungeons and surrounding area after a potion had gone disastrously wrong, he hadn't appreciated having to spend the next year stuck in a cramped classroom on the third floor.

He also had a headache.

"Recipe, ingredients, cauldron…get on with it."

Halfway through the lesson, disaster struck. He was momentarily reminded of 'Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy', like Arthur Dent, he could never quite get the hang of Thursday's. Gregory Goyle's cauldron exploded, showering surrounding students with Swelling Solution and hot bits of a metal. Hell broke loose.

"SILENCE!" He roared, attempting to get to his desk and slipping somewhat unceremoniously on Neville Longbottom's bag. He caught the desk and straightened himself. "Anyone who has been splashed come here for a Deflating Draught. When I find out who did this…"

Half the class lined up at his desk; thank God he had made a large supply of the Deflating Draught, perhaps expecting a disaster of sorts. To make matters worse his headache had now become a full-blown migraine. He helped Lavender Brown drink the potion, as her hands were too large for her to hold the bottle.

Everyone had been 'cured' and he headed over to Goyle's cauldron to investigate. When he had last checked, his potion had been going well and everything appeared to be correct. Oddly, there had been no foul smell, or strange hiss that usually accompanied a potion-making hiccup…this meant it had certainly been a prank.

His suspicious were confirmed as he scooped out the remains of what looked like a firework. How could someone be so stupid to attempt a prank in _his _lesson? Apart from being incredibly dangerous, it was…plain stupid.

"If I ever find out who threw this, I shall _make sure _that person is expelled."

He looked at Harry Potter. He was involved, somehow.

* * *

"Hello, Severus." McGonagall said as the potions master stalked into the staff room, took one look at the coffee and got a class of water instead. He didn't respond. "I heard there was a bit of a…incident…"

"It wasn't an 'incident'." He put down the glass; "some little…bugger threw a firework into a cauldron of Swelling Solution."

"Oh dear."

"It was…luck that it landed in a _correct_ cauldron. I imagine what would have happened if it had landed in Longbottom's cauldron."

"So…you're blaming the Gryffindors?"

He sat down. "The evidence certainly suggests that. I doubt that a Slytherin would attempt anything quite as stupid during one _my _lessons."

McGonagall had to agree, it was unlikely that anyone in Slytherin would even dream of playing such a public prank on their House Master. They did pull pranks on him, usually at select times of year and in the private of their own house.

"Did you remove any points?" He shook his head, "why not?"

"I can't prove it was a Gryffindor. I think that Harry Potter was something to…"

"Severus."

"He looked very guilty."

"Looked?"

"Don't even think of accusing me of that."

"Of course, I'm sorry." She quickly changed the subject. "So, are you looking forward to 'assisting' Gilderoy with his demonstration?"

He'd forgotten about that. "Oh bloody hell."

"It's tonight."

"I know." He rubbed his head. "Am I going to live to see thirty-four?"

"You're thirty-four in January."

"Yes." He took out his cigarette case; "I'm worried about this Duelling Club. I'm a bit concerned someone is going to get hurt, and I don't mean our precious celebrity."

"Disarm him."

"Good idea." He lit the cigarette. "Do you think Professor Dumbledore will pay me danger money for taking part?"

McGonagall laughed, "I doubt it."

"I'll go and write my last will and testament."

"Can I have your guitar?"

"You don't play."

"No, but I feel like learning."

"If I live through this, I'll give you lessons."

* * *

Gilderoy Lockhart stood in front of the mirror checking his appearance for the four-hundredth time that evening. Various robes lay scattered around the room; he always dressed for occasion. He opted for the purple breaches, with yellow stockings, pink cravat and deep plum robes. He smiled at himself in the mirror he looked handsome, no, no, he looked _gorgeous!_

He pulled on his gloves and admired his appearance for one last time before going down to the Great Hall. Things were going great for him at Hogwarts, he had a willing audience for his adventures, and the headmaster himself had agreed to _two _of his ideas for student improvement. He was very much looking forward to the launch of the Hogwarts Gazette!

He met Severus Snape in the antechamber. The man hadn't even made an effort! All he had done was take off his collar, waistcoat and jacket…far too casual.

"Oh I am looking forward to this." Lockhart grinned.

"I'm not."

* * *

Lockhart stood in front of the students. This was the life, showing other people his skills and better still helping people become more like him. How the students were looking at him in admiration, it was marvellous. Snape on the other hand stood towards the back of the stage, he really wasn't cut out to be in the limelight, Lockhart decided. Perhaps he would have a word with the potion teacher about self-image after the lesson.

He waved an arm. "Gather round, gather round. Now, I'd like to introduce to my assistant, Professor Snape, who tells me he knows a tiny bit about duelling and has been a good sport and agreed to a demonstration." He looked at the students, hanging on his every word! "Don't you worry, you'll still have you potions teacher when I'm done with him."

They turned to each other. Lockhart made a show of his bow, whereas Snape simply jerked his head irritably. No showmanship, no showmanship at all…and he calls himself a writer! Snape raised his wand; _blast the man's a leftie_.

"One-two-three…"

"Expelliarmus!"

Lockhart found himself being blasted through the air. _Oh shit._ He hit the wall with a thud and slid down, they were cheering! Why were they cheering? He got unsteadily to his feet, _ouch ouch ouch! _

"That was a disarming charm. Excellent, Professor Snape. It was very obvious you were going to do that, but I felt it would have been instructive for them to see what the charm looked like. Enough of this demonstrating, let's get the class into the pairs for practice."

And thus the Duelling Club continued in mild chaos.

* * *

Alastor Daker made his way slowly up the drive, there was clearly something going on the Great Hall. _Good _he thought, _that means I should be able to get in no problems_. Hopefully Filch wasn't around, they had never really got one and he got the distinct impression that he didn't exactly approve of his relationship with Severus. Rich really, coming from a man who's wife was stuck as a cat.

He knocked on the door and waited. He shuffled from foot to foot, wondering if perhaps he should have worn his glasses. Professor McGonagall opened the door. Daker grinned.

"Evening, Minerva."

"Alastor! What a pleasant surprise. Does Severus know you…?"

"It's a surprise."

McGonagall had always liked the wiry ex-Auror, although technically he was still an Auror (and not quite as wiry). He wouldn't official leave until ministry decided they no longer wanted to pay him sick pay. It was a shame, a complete shame. Daker was a fantastic Auror and for all his faults he hadn't deserved to be treated like he had been.

"I'm sure he'll be delighted. He's in the Great Hall."

"Yeah, I saw the lights on. What's up with that?"

"Duelling Club."

"Duelling Club?"

"Ask Severus. Come on, don't stand out in the cold."

He stepped gratefully into the warm. Hogwarts hadn't changed a bit since his time there; he had no doubt that Hogwarts had hardly changed in the several thousand years it had stood there. The only thing that changed was the staff and pupils.

"I hear that you've got another celebrity in the school." He said wiping his feet.

"A fairy useless one." She lead Daker towards her office, "you've got about half an hour before they finish in the hall. Fancy a cup of tea?"

"I've never heard more beautiful words."

* * *

"Don't move, Potter. I'll get rid of it." Snape stepped forward to vanquish the snake. He knew that it was very evil of him to suggest the spell to Draco, but well he was allowed his fun.

"Allow me!" Lockhart practically leapt forward brandishing his wand. There was a loud bang, and instead of disappearing, the snake flew several feet in the air and landed with a thud, making it angrier.

It hissed and turned towards Justin Finch-Fletchley. The fun was over, Snape pointed his wand at the snake and was about to utter the correct charm when something very strange happened. Harry Potter stepped forward and began to talk to the snake…in Parseltongue.

Snape stared. He quickly waved his wand and the snake vanished. He looked at Harry; there was more to this boy. There was certainly more. He watched as Potter's friend pulled him off the stage and out of the hall, he certainly didn't blame them; the Duelling Club really was a terrible idea.

* * *

Severus Snape hurried back to his office. He certainly didn't fancy answering lots of questions from curious Slytherin's, or putting up with Gilderoy Lockhart's company any further. His migraine was still there; he was going to have to take a Pain-Reducing Potion if he wanted to sleep tonight.

He noticed that his office door was slightly ajar. He had locked it before heading up to the Great Hall, taking out his wand he approached the door carefully. With a bit of luck this would be the thief, returning to steal, and he was about to be caught red handed. He pushed the door open with his foot and stepped quickly into the dark room.

Before he could react someone leapt on him.

"Oof!" He was slammed into the wall, at the same time the door closed with a snap as the lock turned. He tried to utter a curse, but his attacker kissed him. "Alastor?"

"The one and only."

"I could have hurt you!"

"Oh no you couldn't." Alastor kissed him again, "and besides I'm well-trained."

Snape kissed him back, "what brings you to my humble office?"

"I thought that lying naked on your bed was too obvious." He nuzzled at Snape's neck. "Hmm, I love it when you don't wear a collar."

"I have a headache."

"Not very original."

"I really do." He managed to slip out of Alastor's grasp. "Could you pass me the Pain-Reducing Potion?" He did so.

"What's this about a Duelling Club?"

Snape sat down, "one of Lockhart's bright ideas."

"I think he's a bit phoney. A damned sexy one, but a phoney."

"I think I agree with you…" He paused, "about being phoney…"

"Aw, that's sweet, you've got a crush."

"Oh grow up."

Alastor went over to his lover, put a knee on the chair, leant over and kissed him passionately. "Did you get my letter?"

"Yes. You were right on all counts."

"Excellent. You really are far too predictable my dear."

"And you've got too much free time."

"I'm enjoying it. I'm definitely going to start getting back into shape, they can't sack me just yet."

"I like you this way, more cuddly." Snape hugged him. "What will you do if they ask you to leave?"

Alastor shrugged, "spend all my free time fucking you."

"Is that really all I'm good for?" He replied playfully.

"Pretty much." Alastor slid his hand inside Snape's shirt, "what are you doing tonight?"

"Not much." Alastor leant forward and whispered something in his ear, "no. No. Not a chance."

"Oh come on, don't you feel like taking a risk or two?"

"A risk or two? Someone could walk in!"

"And all they'd see is your gorgeously naked body tied up."

"If anyone is tying anyone up, it'll be me tying you."

"I reckon you're submissive."

Snape was amused. "You seem very adventurous all of a sudden."

"What do you expect? Without you all I've got is questionable porn."

"I expect you've been trying out that Braille spell on them."

Alastor began to unbutton Snape's shirt. "Of course." He replied, kissing him softly on the neck. "So, are you coming to my mothers for Boxing Day?"

"Probably." He put down his glass of Pain-Reducing Potion and began to help Alastor undress him. He was beginning to forget all about the Duelling Club, Lockhart, the Chamber of Secrets and Harry bloody Potter.

* * *

Hermione went down to the main school notice board the next morning. She liked checking the various inter-house messages, many of them were amusing and there usually was something of interest.

There was only one other person there, a Ravenclaw that Hermione didn't know.

"Morning." She said, standing next to the girl.

"Hello." The girl replied. "There have been were-snail sightings, so you might want to watch where you step if you go outside today."

Hermione stared at the girl, "um…okay."

"Look, there's a writing competition."

Hermione looked at the notice.

SCHOOL COMPETITION!

IT HAS BEEN DECIDED THAT YOU WILL HAVE YOUR OWN SCHOOL NEWSPAPER AND SO WE ARE LAUNCHING A SEARCH FOR THE WRITING STAFF.

IF INTERESTED, PLEASE SUBMIT AN ARTICLE OF ANY LENGTH TO YOUR HEAD OF HOUSE BY THE END OF THE WEEK

GOOD LUCK!

That did sound very interesting. Very interesting.


	7. Hermione Granger, Editor!

**Title:** The Gospel, according to Gilderoy Lockhart. Or, The Hogwarts Gazette

**Chapter: **Seven: Hermione Granger, Editor!  
**Rating:** M (due to strong language in places, implication of consensual gay sex and Gilderoy Lockhart)

**Synopsis:** Prequel to 'The Meaning of Life at Hogwarts (or The Hogwarts School Band)': This takes place during Harry's second year at Hogwarts, during the time of Gilderoy Lockhart. To assist his already over-inflated ego Lockhart suggests that the students put together their own paper – 'The Hogwarts Gazette'. Unfortunately, Severus Snape ends up on the wrong end of Hermione Granger's pen.  
**Original Character(s):** Alistor Daker and a sadistic coffee-pot

**Legal:** All the characters (besides those mentioned in the above) are the creation of the wonderful JK Rowling, this story has been written because I was bored and had nothing more exciting to do. This isn't for profit.

**Authors Note:** The word of the day is iatrogenic. Oh...and after Office '97 _finally _pissed me off, I switched to Open Office 2.0. Sadly Javert, my nine year old guinea-pig, died on January 30th. The delay with his chapter has been the usual, college work...and if anyone can explain power correction factor to me, send me an e-mail to the usual address (s.dawsonlycos.nl)

Hermione Granger, Editor! 

It was three in the morning. Alastor stared up at the ceiling and tried to stop thinking about how life was going to be life when he could no longer see. At the moment his sight was reduced to a dim haze, he knew it was getting worse and he knew that there was nothing he could do to stop it – no one could. Severus snored gently next to him, Alastor smiled – Severus would kill him if he brought up his snoring, not that it was annoying just gentle and somewhat reassuring.

"Hey." He prodded Severus, who merely rolled over. "Oi!" He prodded him again, still no response so he resorted to the ultimate evil...tickling.

"Fuck off." He murmured sleepily.

"You're really not a morning person."

Severus sat up "it's three o'clock, hardly morning!"

"So you're awake."

"I'm awake because you woke me up."

"When you're feeding the ducks, what are thinking about?" It was a slight quirk of Severus', whenever something was troubling him he would go to the park and feed the ducks. Alastor had never really asked him about it, and had learnt over the years that Severus was best left alone when he feed them.

"If I give you the honest answer, will you let me go back to sleep?"

"Possibly."

"All right, nothing. Absolutely, nothing. That's why I go to feed them." He lay back down, "good night."

Alastor thought for a moment before prodding his long-suffering partner again. "Since we're both awake, maybe some physical exercise would help."

For the past few months Alastor had been getting up at the crack of dawn to exercise, Severus had joined him once or twice over the holidays but running for miles in the early mornings wasn't a great way to great a new day.

"If you think I'm doing squat-thrusts at this time of the morning, you are surely mistaken." He murmured in reply.

"Well it does involve thrusting."

----

The Hogwarts Gazette competition had been active for about a week now, much to the staffs dismay in addition to their usual marking they were wading through articles of various quality. The weather had also taken a nasty turn, forcing Professor Sprout to cancel her last Herbology lessons for the term as she wanted to fit socks on the Mandrakes. On a plus note, it was the last week of term.

"What do you think?" She asked holding up a hideously bright green pair of socks on winter morning in the staff room.

"Vile." Professor Sinistra replied. The coffee pot gurgled in agreement. "But I suppose they won't know."

"Ah, that's where you'd be wrong. They are tricky little buggers."

"Really?"

"Just like children."

"I'll remember that."

----

Snow, bloody snow. Madame Pince eyed the various groups of students in her library, they were all up to no good she supposed. She shushed a group of first years who were being far too noisy and continued to polish the various spell-books.

Spell books were very proud objects and as a resulted demanded to look their best at all times, and believe me you never want to get on the wrong side of a spell book in need of a good clean!

-----

Mark Watson transformed his mouse into a teapot and back again. This was boring, he could do this sort of thing in his sleep! He looked over at his friend Peter Flecther, who was struggling to master the spell.

"Hey, Fletch!"

"What?"

There was a loud POP!

"WATSON!"

Uh-oh.

McGonagall charged across the classroom, waving her wand. "What on Earth do you think you are doing?"

"Well it worked."

"Yes it did, but it was very dangerous!"

One of the girls had handed Peter a mirror. It took him a few moments to register what was going, his head was spinning slightly and he had a strange feeling in his stomach. He finally looked in the mirror.

"Hey cool!" Whatever his friend had tried to do to him, he seemed to have been left very snazzy black and white hair.

"I'm sorry Professor." Watson mumbled.

"It's not me you should be apologising to!"

He turned to his friend, "I'm sorry Fletch, I shouldn't have tried to turn you into a badger."

"You tried to turn me into a badger?"

----

Justin Finch-Flecthley checked round the corner before he headed down the corridor. He was on his guard in case he met Harry Potter, he didn't want to be the next one on his hit list.

He turned on his heel, he was sure he heard something, a sort of...clanging sound.

_Probably just the plumbing._ He told himself, but just in case it was Potter he took out his wand. The corridor was deserted, apart from the muffled voices from behind the classroom doors.

"Shouldn't you be in class?"

Justin jumped at the sound of the voice. He turned and to his relief he saw that it was only Nearly-Headless Nick.

"Cancelled because of the snow." He replied. He was sure he could hear a low hissing sound; "can you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"That sort of...hissing sound."

----

"Fifty points off Ravenclaw! You will also have a detention with me. I don't know what's go into you! How many times have I told you about the dangers of human transformation?"

"But he's all right!"

Fletcher continued to stare at his friend, "you tried to turn me into a badger?"

"See!"

"My decision is not negotiable! Fifty points from Ravenclaw, and a detention." She turned to Peter Fletcher, "incidentally Mr Fletcher your hair will return to..."

Before she could finish there was a loud shout from outside the classroom:

"ATTACK! ATTACK! ANOTHER ATTACK! NO MORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ATTAAAACK!"

----

"It's such a pity I wasn't there." Gilderoy Lockhart looked around the somewhat sombre staff room. "I suppose it's just like with Mrs Norris and young Creevey." No one replied, and not taking the hint he continued to talk. "Such a pity. Oh, I don't believe we've met."

Alastor Daker had spent most of the day sitting in the staff room, he had considered braving the library but he didn't think it was a good idea for a stranger to wander round the school at the present time.

"Alastor Daker." He said holding out his hand. "Gilderoy Lockhart I presume?"

"Oh, well, yes it is. Would you care for an autograph?"

----

"I heard you got your wish." Severus Snape looked up from the parchment he was reading.

"Not exactly my wish." Alastor held up the piece of parchment with the somewhat extravagant signature.

"It's true what they say, he'll sign anything providing it stays still long enough."

"He probably signed his dick."

"With a signature like that, he'd be lucky to get a letter on it."

Alastor grinned, "has a certain someone been stalking again?"

Snape glared at him, "why don't you make yourself useful and help me read some of these articles."

"Oh this is the Hogwarts Gazette competition thing, isn't it?" He picked up a few sheets of parchment. "I suppose I could practice my Braille."

----

"I think it's time we did something Albus. _Two _students attacked, if we don't do something..."

"Minerva, there is nothing I can do. There are charms all over the school, there's nothing to tell us who is doing this." Dumbledore was weary. "The best thing we can do is patrol the corridors, make sure that students are always with a teacher."

"There aren't enough of us to be everywhere!"

"The ghosts can help with patrols, as can prefects. We just need to keep our eyes open."

"Alastor Daker is currently around..."

"I don't want anyone outside of Hogwarts getting involved, at least not yet."

"Alastor's hardly outside of Hogwarts."

"He's linked with the Ministry, I don't want them involved."

"He's not going..."

"Minerva, please." He stirred his tea. "I trust Alastor, and would welcome his involvement...however, the way things are it's likely to attract attention."

"I don't think people in the Ministry are that bothered about what he gets up to."

"They're keeping an eye on him in case he goes off and writes a book spilling secrets. Chances are the Ministry are well aware that he spent the night here, they would become interested if he spends more than the odd night or two."

----

The staff assembled for their end of term staff meeting. They all knew that it was going to be a sombre affair, and all were keen to hear Dumledore's plans for approaching the events – even the coffee-pot was being relatively well behaved.

"You still here Alastor?" Professor Sinistra asked as she sat down next to ex-Auror.

"Severus has got me practically chained to the bed." He replied.

"Ooh, kinky." Flitwick grinned as he joined them.

"Oh believe me, I'd love to try kinky but Severus is a little...reserved."

"What are your plans for Christmas?" Sinistra asked, getting herself more comfortable on the edge of the armchair.

"Quiet Christmas at home, Boxing Day at my mothers. That is providing circumstances allow it."

"Can I have your attention please?" Dumbledore asked, standing in front of them. There was instant quiet. "This is beginning to become a taxing year, and I'm sure you can all appreciate the serious of these matters. As many children will be heading home for Christmas, I'm sure that we can longer keep this from the press and I would appreciate your co-operation by not talking to anyone." He looked at Lockhart. "I also intend to keep the Ministry out of this for the present."

"Surely as soon as Fudge hears, he'll put two and two together about last time..." Sinistra started.

"I'm not proud to say this, but last time it was covered up. As far as everyone was concerned the death of young Myrtle was unrelated."

"I would be quite happy, over the holidays, to explore the castle fully in the attempt to locate this monster." Lockhart volunteered.

"Thank you, Gilderoy, but over the years the school has been searched many times and I doubt that you will be successful."

"Headmaster, I don't mean to be insensitive in this situation but those of us who have booked the Christmas holidays off..." Snape asked.

"That still stands. I see no reason to cancel leave at this time. However, once you are all assembled again in the New Year I have a few safety systems I would like to place, but it is best we talk about those after Christmas." Dumbledore cleared his voice, "oh, and I believe that today is decision making day for the Hogwarts Gazette, yes?"

And so they decided – and obviously, Hermione Granger was appointed the editor of the Hogwarts Gazette!

Tune in next time for the **Beginning of the End**!


	8. Confessions of an Egotistical Jerk

**Title:** The Gospel, according to Gilderoy Lockhart. Or, The Hogwarts Gazette

**Chapter: **Eight: Confessions of an Egotistical Jerk  
**Rating:** M (this chapter contains slash)  
**Original Character(s):** Alistor Daker, a sadistic coffee-pot and a few caterpillars

**Authors Note:** The word of the day is jurisconsult and the musical of the week is Jack: the Musical. There has been a bit of a re-titling in chapters, sorry. I would like to extend a gesture of thanks to my friend Ray, who politely answered my questions; also, I am very much debating re-writing a certain scene for viewing at a site that allows 18 (NC-17 etc...) rated fics.

Confessions of an Egotistical Jerk

Hermione Granger was a busy little bee. During the day she was Hermione Granger the Super Swot, in the afternoon she was Hermione Granger – Editor! And finally at night she was Hermione Granger, Rule Breaker.

The potion was almost ready, and she felt a little glum knowing that she couldn't get recognition for brewing such an advanced potion (Harry and Ron didn't count). Perhaps she could write an account for the Gazette, obviously setting it in a fictional environment and making sure that no one saw through it.

The Hogwarts Gazette was progressing nicely under her watchful eyes, Colin Creevy was using his camera obsession for something useful, and had submitted a lot of photographs of people with Gilderoy Lockhart. In fact, Hermione was thinking of speaking to Lockhart – maybe she could publish little tip bits from the handsome professor! A rather strange first year Ravenclaw kept submitting articles about were-snails and other such nonsense; maybe she could create a nonsense column! She certainly planned a section of interviews with the staff, Lockhart being the first on her list and Snape the last, _in fact_ she thought _I might miss Snape off all together!_

_----- _

The mood around the castle was sombre, despite it being only a week until Christmas. Dumbledore still insisted that anyone on the staff who still wished to go home for Christmas, could do, but in a very touching move every single member of staff chose to stay at the school.

"It'll be like one big family Christmas!" Lockhart beamed round the staff room. "I hope you all remember to get me a something, I have to confess that bought each and every one of you a personal gift."

"Oh joy." Professor Sinistra smiled.

"Perhaps I could entertain you with the daring adventures that I have been on, around the fire on Christmas Eve, a bit of Mulled wine, I'll soon have you all forgetting about the Chamber of Secrets!"

Someone groaned.

"Oh, that reminds me! You must all try my special eggnog mix, secret recipe created it myself, it's probably going to be one of the best things you have ever tasted." He beamed. "Perhaps I can surprise a few of you lovely ladies with the mistletoe?"

"You're so vain, you probably think this song is about you..." Snape sang under his breath, causing Professor Sinistra to choke on her coffee.

"Um?" Lockhart looked round.

-----

Albus Dumbledore paced his office for perhaps the one hundredth time that afternoon. He needed to find a way to stop the attacks, he couldn't allow anyone to die this time. There was too much at stake, why was it happening again? Had the heir of Slytherin truly returned to the castle? He was glad that his staff he chosen to spend the Christmas here, with the few students whoever it was attacking them would find the timing perfect. It was his duty to protect them.

----

There was a light snow falling outside and the castle beamed with warm light, things were starting to look a bit like a Christmas card (which I suppose is fitting as it was Christmas).

Severus Snape stretched his legs in front of the fire, it was peaceful in the staff room at the moment, Lockhart was making a pain of himself in the Great Hall with his 'decorating suggestions'. He went back to reading his book, only vaguely aware of his surroundings.

Alastor hadn't exactly taken the news that he was staying at Hogwarts well. He had been quite offended that Severus chose to spend his Christmas at the castle instead of with him. In way of peace breaker, Severus had promised to do something that Alastor was always asking him to do.

"Helloooo..."

Snape jumped slightly and turned to see Professor Sinistra sitting next to him. "Jesus." He muttered.

"I've been sitting here for ten minutes."

"You have?"

"Yes, and you've been staring into space the entire time."

"I didn't realise I was needed."

"You're not, I'd just be nice to get a reply every now and then." She smiled at him, "so, change of Christmas plans?"

"Yes. If Draco Malfoy hadn't been staying, I wouldn't be here."

"I didn't realise you cared that much about the boy."

"Lucius cares, and he happens to be on the school board." He admitted.

"Oh." Sinistra sympathised. "How did Alastor take it?"

"Er..." he thought for a moment, "not at first, but I can be quite persuasive."

"Oh, so you finally agreed to do it."

He was taken back for a moment, "agree to what?"

"You know..." She winked at him.

He blushed violently, "how do you know about that?!" He demanded.

"Alastor was complaining about it." Snape fumed slightly.

"You're awfully red Severus." Professor Flitwick said hopping up onto the nearby armchair.

"He knows we know." Sinistra replied cryptically.

"Oh and about time! You really should have agreed to it earlier, it's wonderful..." Flitwick trailed off, realising what he was saying. Sinistra smiled at him, he too turned the colour of beetroot.

"Do you all know about my sex life?" Snape demanded.

"No," McGonagall replied sitting down in a nearby chair. "Just the things that you won't do."

"I'm going to kill him."

"Before or after you boink him?"

-----

Snape hurried down the corridor, after his grilling into the staff room he wanted to sit somewhere quiet where people were unlikely to disrupt him with comments about his sex life. Personally he believed that he had a very adventurous sex life, although there was the odd one or two things he wouldn't do... possibly by the end of the year he would have tried the ones he wouldn't do, if Alastor got his way.

"Severus!" The last person Snape wanted to see (or hear) at this moment bounded down the corridor towards him. Lockhart was a sickening display of bright pink and tinsel, and worse he was holding mistletoe.

_Oh.Shit._

"Severus, I've been meaning to speak to you." Lockhart slipped his arm through Snape's. Snape glared at the offending arm.

"Move it before I break it."

"Oh...yes." Lockhart did so. "Anyway, I wanted to speak to you... _in private."_

"What about?"

"Something that should be discussed in private."

Snape sighed. "All right." He knew if he didn't listen to what the bugger wanted to say he would annoy him for the rest of Christmas. "My office is nearest."

"Excellent."

-----

The caterpillar eyed the paper-trap suspiciously. There was paper, true, but there was also a nasty looking metal thing... and well, recently it had noted, the numbers of caterpillars had decreased around the castle – could there be a link?

Cautiously it nibbled the corner of the paper. Suddenly everything went black.

-----

"What did you want?" Snape asked sitting behind his desk.

"I heard about your unfortunate situation."

"Not you as well!" He groaned, how did this jerk find out about Alastor's proposal?

"You must be finding things very hard at the moment, knowing whether to trust him or not. After all you can't keep an eye on him all the time, I have to say when I met him the other day I sensed that he was troubled – I have a gift in that area."

Snape was puzzled, "what _are _you talking about?"

"Oh I understand that you're in denial, I would be too. Over the years I have been in several situations where the dragon has tempted me."

"The dragon..." Snape nodded slightly, "are you high?"

"Good gracious no!"

"Then what in God's name are you on about?"

"Your...partner's problem. You know, tempting the dragon? I just wanted to let you know that I have published a book on coping with difficult situations, and of course I deal with my own problems in my autobiography which I have been told have been a great source of support for people..."

"Who told you?" Snape interrupted icily.

"Who...er...no one. I thought that had seen his name somewhere before, and I asked my agent to look him up..." Something from the look on Snape's face told Lockhart to shut up.

"If you _ever_ speak to me again regarding...Alastor's problem, I will not hesitate to hurt you." He said quietly, "I will also make sure that you _never _publish another book again as will Alastor's lawyer. Is that clear?"

"P...perfectly."

"Get out."

------

No one could fail to enjoy the wonderful Christmas that Dumbledore had arranged. There were no fewer than twelve Christmas trees, glistening with beautiful frost. There were streamers of holly and (to Snape's annoyance) mistletoe suspended in mid-air. The enchanted ceiling was mirroring the light snow falling outside, except this snow was warm.

Hagrid hiccuped as he reached over the jug of eggnog. "Wish we 'ad this stuff all ye'r 'round."

"I'm glad we don't." McGonagall observed, "I think you should slow down."

There was a little 'thud' behind her, she turned to see a rosy faced Professor Flitwick lying on his back with his feet in the air, giggling madly.

"It's pure cashmere." Malfoy's crooning voice could be heard from the Slytherin table. "Highest quality, my mother makes sure I get nothing but the best."

Somehow Dumbledore had persuaded Snape to bring his guitar, and he was leading the school in his favourite Christmas carols.

------

Madame Pomfrey stared as Hermione Granger was hurried into the Medical Wing under a blanket and escorted by Ron Weasley and Harry Potter. Her eyes almost popped out of head upon observing the somewhat obvious tail that Hermione seemed to have grown.

She sighed, "I'm not going to ask."

------

Back in the staff room, the festivities continued (but without Flitwick and Hagrid who had both been sent to bed in disgrace). The traditional present swap took place and soon the lush carpet was covered in wrapping paper. Lockhart have given everyone signed special editions of his autobiography, and he had received gifts of quills and notebooks from the staff.

Albus Dumbledore was beginning to wish he had never mentioned his desire for socks this Christmas, instead of books. What was he going to do with over twenty pairs? The saying "you can never have too many socks", wasn't true.

"Instead of you, I got Petrus a little present." Professor Sprout handed over a small parcel. "I hope he likes it."

Petrus was Snape's rather sweet pet hedgehog, he was getting to be a little elderly and spent most of his time asleep but considering the large amount of little hedgehogs he sired every year, he wasn't quite past his prime.

Snape smiled and opened the parcel. "I'm sure he'll love them." He held up the multi-coloured little booties. "I take it you knitted them yourself?"

"Oh yes. I had some wool left over from the Mandrake hats."

"They're very nice, thank you."

They were interrupted by Gilderoy Lockhart tapping a glass with a spoon. "Eh-hem! Can I have your attention please?" He got their attention. "Wonderful. Now I thought that I would regal you with a few tales of thrilling adventure to take our minds off the recent events." He beamed, jumped onto a chair and cleared his voice loudly; "my defeat of the Wagga-Wagga Werewolf."

------

Two hours later, Lockhart was still enthralled with his 'thrilling' tale, completely oblivious to the fact that no one was listening. Snape was making origami animals out of the wrapping paper that was still lying around the staff room, and Professor Sprout was snoring loudly.

Lockhart reached the climax of his tale, and was met with a somewhat muted applause. "Thank you, thank you." He bowed theatrically. "And now, for my adventure..."

"Oh for Christ's Sake!" Snape exploded, he couldn't take any more. "Your head is so far up your own arse that, that lump in your throat is your nose!"

"I'm only trying to help!" Lockhart replied a little meekly.

"Trying? The only thing you're trying is my bloody patience! None of us want to know how you single handily saved fucking the world!" People stopped what they were doing to stare at the heated exchange, Professor Sprout continued to snore.

"At least I'm doing something, Severus. I'm not sitting around being miserable and complaining, I'm trying to lighten peoples spirits." Lockhart replied hotly.

"And you think this is helping?"

"I'm just trying to regal a few stimulating tales."

"The only thing you are stimulating is my urge to kill you!"

"Is that a confession? Are you perhaps assisting whoever it is, who is committing these atrocities because if I didn't know better Severus Snape I would say you are trying to hinder me because you're involved!"

There was a deadly silence. Snape glared at Lockhart before storming out the room, slamming the door behind him. Professor Sprout woke up with a snort, and couldn't quite figure out why everyone was staring at her.

"What?" She asked.

------

Later that night Snape stalked the corridor, he was is in a foul mood. Beware the student who crossed his path that night.

_How dare Lockhart... The little fucker. _

He almost kicked a house elf as it hurried by in a Christmas costume, but managed to stop himself, it wasn't fair to hurt the house elves. He headed outside, he needed to smoke and he wasn't any where near his office or the staff room.

He sat on the steps, shivering slightly and watched the snow. The light was still on Hagrid's hut and he could hear his drunken singing, and could it be that he was accompanied by an equally drunk Flitwick? He couldn't be sure.

The cigarette was beginning to calm him down somewhat, perhaps he had over-reacted to Lockhart. After all, he mused, he was only trying to help... in a egotistical way. He lit another cigarette and began to muse on the subject that was Gilderoy Lockhart.

The snow began to fall heavier, and Snape was beginning to get a little chilly. He sighed and extinguished the cigarette, it was better to head inside than freeze to death out here.

------

The coffee pot was in a merry mood, it was Christmas and someone had fed it vodka. It was contemplating finally making that move on the tea-pot, the fact it was an inanimate object seem to pass it by completely, but even coffee pots dream.

Severus Snape poured himself a cup of coffee (or what was masquerading as coffee). It was nearing one o'clock in the morning and he was still awake, chances are when the clock turned nine he would be still sitting in the staff room. There were no lights on, he preferred it this way, and it helped him think, reflect on the day's events.

He heard a snuffling sound in the dark and cautiously drew his wand. He spotted someone sitting at the dark conference table. "Lockhart?"

Lockhart jumped slightly and turned to face Snape; "Severus! What…what are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question." He lit the lamps with a flick of his wand; Lockhart turned quickly away to hide his face but not before Snape had spotted the tell tale signs of tears. He paused for a moment not quite knowing what to do.

"I'm tired." Lockhart said indicating his face, "always makes me emotional."

Snape coughed slightly, "erm... I... I wanted to apologise for earlier."

Lockhart waved a hand, "I should be apologising to you. I shouldn't have accused you."

"It's forgiven." He sat down next to Lockhart. "I shouldn't have flown off the handle, I know that you were only trying to help, in your way."

"Minerva did mention that you were a little stressed."

He eyed Lockhart, "I think we all are." The sat in silence for a few minutes, "look, is everything all right?"

"Christmas is a very emotional time of year."

Snape agreed, "but what concerns me somewhat is that you of all people are sitting alone in the dark, crying."

"Oh, I'm not crying dear boy."

"Of course not." Snape took a breath; "look, Lockhart, I've been teaching a long time now. We're under a lot of pressure from all sides, students, parents, other teachers; and then this year we've got the added pressure of something trying to kill us. Sometimes we have to…talk about things that are bothering us."

"From what I hear, you don't talk either."

"Touché. I have outlets though; I've got my partner. Who do you have?"

"My writing is my outlet."

"It's clear that what you're writing about doesn't bother you." He stood up, "friendly advice? Talk to Dumbledore, anyone." He walked towards the door.

"I hate Christmas." Snape stopped and turned. "Which is silly, because everyone loves Christmas. The coloured lights, the... the presents and family. What's to hate about Christmas?"

Snape returned to the sofa and sat down next to him. "Christimas can be a very trying time of year." He conjured up a bottle of Odin's Old Fire Whiskey, and poured two glasses.

"My family had very little. We couldn't afford much, you wouldn't think that I come from nothing would you? It wasn't that we never had money, it was more we couldn't keep the money. Father was always owing people money. Sometimes when he couldn't pay, they'd come round..."

Snape topped up Lockhart's glass and gulped down his own.

"I used to sit in my bedroom and pretend it wasn't happening, I couldn't understand why my mother let them do that to her, she was a witch she could have protected herself...and my sister."

"I didn't know that you have a sister."

"Had." Snape left it alone and they continued drinking in silence for awhile.

"It was Christmas Eve, once again my father had gambled everything we had and couldn't pay. The men came round and..." Lockhart was crying again, "I couldn't protect them."

"You were only a child." Snape said softly, "you weren't expected to protect them." He handed Lockhart his handkerchief. "Why isn't any of this in your autobiography?"

"You read... People don't want to read about those things. You can't tell them _everything_."

"Not even the truth?"

Lockhart looked at him for a moment, "You asked me if I was…queer." Lockhart stared at his hands. Snape didn't reply.

The kiss was gentle and exploring at first before becoming more intense and passionate.

"I say!" A nearby painting exclaimed before hurrying out the frame.

Lockhart lay back on the sofa and Snape followed, still locked in their kiss. They continued in that position for a few minutes allowing their tongues to explore their new surroundings. Snape moved to unfasten Lockhart's trousers.

"Wait, Severus...I've never..." Lockhart gasped.

Suddenly Snape came to his senses, realising what he was doing. He sat up.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled.

Lockhart sat up, "Severus..."

"I've had too much to drink." Snape stood up and quickly crossed to the door, he paused before rapidly leaving.

Lockhat fell back on the sofa and cursed his inability to keep his mouth shut.

The coffee pot gurgled with glee. You waited a life time to enjoy this sort of scandal!

"You should have kept quiet." A rather miffed painting broke the silence. Lockhart turned to see several faces squashed into the frame. He glared. "Well you weren't exactly being private."

"Shut up." He sighed and decided to go for a _very _cold shower.


	9. Missing in Action

**Rating:** M (contains reference to drugs, and Gilderoy Lockhart)  
**Original Character(s):** Alistor Daker, a sadistic coffee-pot, Petrus and Charlie Sinistra  
**Legal:** All the characters (besides those mentioned in the above) are the creation of the wonderful JK Rowling, this story has been written because I was bored and had nothing more exciting to do. This isn't for profit.  
**Authors Note:** The word of the day is…I can't be bothered (maybe I should have related my word of the day to the story context…). Petrus is inspired by Greenie, Silverfox's (user ID 50532) plot hedgehog – I recommend that you check out her excellent story 'Runaway Dragon' (story ID 431805). For our non-English readers (and probably anyone outside the North of England), a 'cardy' is a cardigan.

Missing in Action

The general rule of thumb (for Slytherin's) was that if Professor Snape's bedroom door was open then he was happy to talk, if it was closed you didn't disturb him.

He didn't really have a grand personal space like some of the other staff, more of a small two room affair. The larger part of the room was taken up with a somewhat battered sofa, across from a small fireplace, in the far corner of the same room stood his desk (currently piled high with paper), several overflowing bookcases complete with small piles on the floor and his guitar made up the rest of the space. There was a small archway leading to the next room, containing his night stand, wardrobe and single bed. A curtain discreetly covered the entrance and he had debated getting a door put in, but he couldn't really see the point of it.

On this occasion, the door was open.

Snape was sitting on the floor, his legs apart, marking third year Potions essays. If anyone had popped by they would have been amused with the smiley face socks he was wearing.

The ash tray on the floor denoted the hours that had passed since he had first sat down. Petrus, his elderly but somewhat loveable hedgehog, trotted over pushing a ball about the size of tennis ball (with a very irritating bell) over to him. Snape looked up feeling the bump against his foot, he smiled picked up the ball and rolled it across the room – Petrus persuaded it a leisurely pace and returned pushing the ball. They continued with this game for some hours.

* * *

Gilderoy Lockhart faced himself in the mirror. It was something he did on a regular basis – he called it his 'self-affirming' moments. He stared at his reflection, there was something off, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He turned slightly to the left (his good side) and continued to stare.

That's when he saw it.

Taunting him, just peaking out from under the brim of his hat.

A grey hair.

He reached up, his hand shaking, to take the strand – he had to do something quick. He bolted towards his desk which was covered in various hair-care and skin care products and frantically began to look through the bottles.

Finally he found what he was looking for – 'Grey Away, for the Mature Wizard'. He hoped there was enough in the bottle.

* * *

The ball bumped against his foot and without looking up he sent it back on its way. There was a slight sound as it hit the skirting and bounced out of his room – Petrus followed the it out into the corridor.

* * *

Hermione was at a loss regarding her first editorial. The rest of the paper had come together with no problems, and Dean's illustrations looked excellent – it was a pity that Colin was now lying in the Medical Wing, she had been hoping to ask him to take some pictures of 'life at Hogwarts', luckily though a third year Ravenclaw had offered her services.

For inspiration she was scanning the back issues of the Daily Prophet. She was currently onto December 1979.

From the mid-1970s the majority of the news in Daily Prophet concerned Death Eaters, news on Voldemort's rising and other happy things. There was probably nothing here that would be worth writing about it, she mused.

She sighed and continued to read the article 'More Arrests This Morning', she stopped and re-read the last paragraph, and then re-read it again, no she wasn't imagining things. The last line of the article said: _"Also arrested, Severus Snape (20)." _

She had her editorial.

* * *

Twenty minutes passed before Snape realised that Petrus hadn't returned with the ball. It took him a further three seconds to panic slightly, the memory of Mrs Norris still quite fresh.

He stood and took out his wand, without bothering with shoes he headed out into the dark corridor.

"Lumos." He muttered and scanned the floor. There was Petrus' ball, but there was no sign of the little hedgehog. "Petrus?" He called as a gust of wind shot down the passageway causing him to shiver.

"Bloody hedgehog." He muttered as he set off up the corridor.

* * *

Whilst Lockhart was panicking over a single grey hair, and Snape was searching the school for his hedgehog, Hermione Granger was putting the finish touches to her article. It was going to be controversial, but it would generate a lot of discussion and she wanted this to be a memorable first issue. She held up her precious article and smiled to herself, perfect.

Snape knew the corridors of the school almost by heart, he had spent a large portion of his time here stalking them at various hours of the day, but for some reason it all felt different tonight.

It was probably due to the recent strange events but you very rarely met anyone in the corridors after four o'clock on a Friday, everyone seemed to have better things to do than hang around. Snape couldn't really blame them, the last thing he wanted to be doing was searching the school _alone_.

He tried to ignore the little voice in his head reminding him that only the Muggle born were being 'attacked' and the little voice reminding him that he was half-blood. He had spent several hours researching the Chamber of Secrets and even though he was pretty sure that only those of pure-Muggle blood were at risk he still couldn't shake the uneasy feeling he had.

_Awful lot of spiders about_ he thought to himself as he observed a large cluster of spiders scurrying away from his wand light. There was nothing really unusual about spiders in the castle, but it did seem strange that there seemed to be a sudden boom in the spider population. _Must be the weather._

Something touched his arm and he almost screamed.

* * *

"Don't you think him might be a bit pissed?" Lavender asked looking over Hermione's editorial.

"He's always pissed. Lavender, it's not even news! It's in the public domain, it happened a long time ago. Anyway it's all about Secret Lives and how much do we really know about people, not Snape." She took the article off Lavender.

"Maybe you shouldn't go with for the first issue, Hermione." Blaise leaned over and took the article off Hermione.

"You just stick with the Gobstones news, Blaise."

"He'll go ape."

"It's _not _about Snape, I'm just using that as an example. It'll be fine, he probably won't even read it."

No one was quite so confident as Hermione, but she was the boss.

* * *

Lockhart gasped, "you didn't have to hex me!"

"Surely you have more sense than to touch someone on the arm in the middle of _dark _corridor!" Snape snapped back.

"I didn't see you!"

As you might of guessed the person who had put their hand somewhat foolishly onto Snape's had been none other than Gilderoy Lockhart. It wasn't a good idea to frighten the life out of someone holding a wand.

"How could you not see me?!"

"It's dark and your cardy is dark."

Snape had to concede that yes he was wearing dark clothes (apart from his socks) "why were you standing in the corner?"

"I heard a strange noise, so I...I..."

"You hid?"

"No! I merely stepped back to observe, don't forget Severus I am a highly trained specialist."

"In being a wanker?" Snape enquired.

"No! Against dark creatures."

"Right."

"Might I ask what you're doing walking around in your, may I say, very fetching socks?"

Snape looked down and instantly felt a little embarrassed. "I was looking for Petrus."

"Petrus?"

"My hedgehog."

"Oh you have a hedgehog, how sweet. You know I have published a book on the various familiars that wizards choose and I don't think I've come across someone who chose a hedgehog."

"He's not a familiar, he's a pet."

"Oh."

Snape sighed, "if you want to make yourself useful, you can help look for him."

Much as annoying as he was, Lockhart was company and after his scare Snape didn't really feel like searching on his own.

* * *

Half an hour later, Snape was still in the company of Gilderoy Lockhart and he was becoming a little anxious of the whereabouts of his hedgehog.

"So what made you keep a hedgehog?"

Snape shrugged, "no reason."

"Why Petrus?"

"I thought Sonic was too predicable."

"Sorry?"

"Nevermind."

"So, why Petrus? It sounds...foreign and exotic. Is that why?"

"Has anyone ever told you that you're extremely irritating?"

"I'm just making conversation."

He took a deep breath, "it refers to St Peter, the first Pope."

Lockhart stopped and looked at him, "that's an odd reason. I thought perhaps because Petrus is rock in Greek."

It was Snape's turn to be surprised, "There's a lot more to you than this flamboyant idiocy isn't there?"

"I'm not just a pretty face. I merely connected the dots from petrified..."

"Professor McGonagall told you."

* * *

Professor Sprout leaned over and gently applied some acne medication to her beloved mandrakes. They were her children. During her brief marriage children hadn't been a priority she had been too swept away under the illusions of love, then things had turned sour and everything came to an end. Now it was too late for her to have children.

She felt a twinge of guilt when she thought about the fate that awaited her mandrakes, chopped up and used in one of Snape's potions. _At least they have the chance to save someone_, she mused.

The one she was holding suddenly stuck out its tongue and began to try to wriggle free from her grip, whilst screaming at the top of it's voice. Yes, they were fast leaving childhood behind.

* * *

"I told yer those caterpillar's 'ad nothing ter do wif me!" Hagrid protested for perhaps the hundredth time in the last ten minutes.

"Well they certainly had nothing to do with me! I spent the best part of the day laying traps for the little buggers." Professor Kettleburn replied, gingerly rubbing the stump of his right leg. His wooden one was leaning in the corner of Hagrid's hut along with his cloak.

"Wonder where they came from."

"The library probably. Much as that blasted woman doesn't want to admit, I would bet my left leg that they are some kind of bookworm that's been eating one too many magical books."

"P'robly. 'Ere, yer couldn't talk ter Dumbledore 'bout me takin' yer job?"

"Hagrid, you aren't a wizard."

"I know! But I knows all 'bout magical creatures, yer don't need ter be a wizard..."

"I doubt the school board would allow your appointment."

"But wif yer recommendation..."

"No."

* * *

"There's nothing to worry about is there? I mean we're both pure blood wizards." Lockhart muttered nervously to himself.

Snape smiled to himself, "I'm not."

"Your not what, my boy?"

He grimaced at Lockhart's use of 'my boy' but let it pass, it was too much fun to frighten him. "A pure blood."

Lockhart stopped dead in his tracks. "Your...your not?"

"No. Half blood."

Recovering quickly Lockhart smiled, "then no fear! I'm a pure blood I can protect you if we come under attack. Have no fear, you're safe with me. It's a good job I came along!"


End file.
